


The Mercenary Types

by ImmortalError



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Cursing, Felix Needs to Chill, Felix | Isaac Gates Being a Dick, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired By Season 14, Kissing, Locus Needs a Break, M/M, Making Out, Marcus Ranier, Original Character(s), Past Felix | Isaac Gates/Locus | Samuel Ortez, Rough Kissing, Siris Doesn't Know How He Got Here, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Zachary Miller - Freeform, pre-Chorus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 49,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalError/pseuds/ImmortalError
Summary: Sometime after their return from the Great War, Locus and Felix were hired by Malcolm Hargrove to eradicate Chorus. Within that 'sometime' there are other stories left untold that should be told. A time before the bounty hunters intent on bettering the world became mercenaries intent on bettering their bank accounts.





	1. The Beginnings

**P R E F A C E**

 

The thing about Felix was that only _one_ person in the entire world knew him.  
  
‘Knew him’ meaning the _truth_ about him. Plenty of people knew _of_ him. A thief, a bandit, an assassin, a mercenary. Danger and trouble. A force to be reckoned with. People knew to avoid Felix as best they could and to do their utmost to stay uninvolved. Those unfortunate souls that the universe placed before Felix were all subjected to a force of darkness more dangerous than they could’ve expected. Very few were allowed to live and those who did would continue tell the world that Felix was a threat better left avoided.  
  
But no one knew him the way Locus did.  
  
Locus knew Felix before he was Felix. Locus had known Felix before he himself was Locus. Back in the day’s of Isaac Gates and Samuel Ortez. A time, post-UNSC, when they decided maybe they _did_ work well as a team. Despite a mutual hatred and differing moral values.

The thing about Locus was that only _one_ person in the entire world knew him.

Similarly, ‘knew him’ referred to the truth about Locus. People knew of Locus but barely by name. He was most often thought of as a ghost. Unseen, unheard. Lurking, watching waiting. Dwelling amongst shadows. Locus was said to travel with Felix but those who had survived him said you would never know. You wouldn’t hear him. You wouldn’t see him. The world would just suddenly go black. Those who he left with air in their lungs would be believers in the supernatural. They’d say that Locus was a ghost with the power of a God.

But no one knew him the way Felix did.

Felix had known Locus before he had that code name. The sheer arrogance that left Felix’s lips was perfectly contrasted by the silence that surrounded Locus’. For that exact reason, Siris fitted in perfectly. Locus had been the one to introduce Felix and Siris. They’d worked together before and a part of Locus just knew that Siris wouldn’t trust Felix. Locus, of course, didn’t blame Siris for that. They had differing personalities to the extreme and Locus knew that Siris would be wondering just how Locus had come to befriend such a hot-headed asshole.  
  
Of course Locus never directly told Siris that the only reason he was still alive was because Felix had hesitantly had his back during The Great War. He had simply looked Siris dead in the eyes and said,  
“He’s good.”  
_Good_ could’ve meant any number of things but Siris could read the message in Locus’ glare. Felix was good to rely on. Never would Locus use the word trust. With trust came certain death.

The three of them were difficult adjustments. At _least_ two characteristics of each one of them clashed with another at any given point in time. Felix’s confidence and persistence clashed with Siris’ conscientiousness and righteousness. Siris’ conscientiousness and righteousness clashed with Locus’ coldness and meticulousness. Locus’ coldness and meticulousness clashed with Felix’s confidence and persistence. So on and so forth, over and over and over.

Yet, by some strange will of the universe, the three of them decided they would continue to work together. Sometime later they would be hired by Malcolm Hargrove but, within that sometime, there were other stories to be told. Stories of how they tried to better the world and, eventually, to simply better their bank accounts.


	2. Lies and Fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus and Siris try to make the best of the consequences of Gabriel Lozano. Felix is placed under house arrest to treat his injuries.

**L O C U S**

It felt as though immediately after the events of Gabriel Lozano the three of them were inevitably closer. There was a stronger tie there and a better sense of trust. The whole mission had been a shit-show, but they had _survived_ that shit-show. Alive and somewhat unscathed. The bullet had done a fair bit of damage to Felix’s leg and the fence he had hit had to have fractured the bone. That meant Felix couldn’t get back into business as quickly as he would’ve hoped to. Felix couldn’t be at the wheel. Not with his track record of conveniently ignoring road rules as well as the loose flesh the bullet had left. That meant Locus and Siris had complete control of where they were headed. Destination: _not-where-Felix-demanded._

Both Locus and Siris debated a hospital but Felix had protested immediately, said it would be too risky showing their faces after such an event. Bad people had been killed, yes, but they had been killed regardless of their morals.  
“A negative and a negative doesn’t equal a positive.” Felix told them, “we wouldn’t get away with it lightly. We need to be careful with how we plan what comes next.”  
“Well if you’re a negative and Locus is a negative then I’m pretty damn positive I’m going hate whatever comes next.” Siris muttered to himself.  
“Oh, feisty. I like that,” Felix smirked, winking.  
“Shut it.” Locus snapped before taking a quick breath, “where then, Felix?”  
“I, for one, would prefer to be home.” His eyes became lost in the city lights. The streets in the dark were a sight to behold. Beautiful flashing signs of neon colour. Locus and Siris exchanged a look of doubt.  
“And that is where…?” Siris asked, turning his neck slightly to meet Felix’s eyes.  
“Up Enteka Street, an apartment. I can get to my place fine, no worries.”  
“Those apartments on Enteka Street are the biggest blocks in the city! What are you, like Number 285!?”  
“Don’t be absurd… I’m Number 237.” Eyes rolled.  
“Planning on levitating there…?” Siris whispered under his breath, beginning to question just why he came back.

They decided, against their better judgement, to take Felix home. He would only deny treatment and escape the hospital. Then there was the debate about how exactly Felix would treat his wound. He insisted that he ‘knew a guy’ and that it would be ‘no problem at all, it’s barely a scratch’.  
“We have varying definitions of a scratch.” Locus stated as they pulled up to the Enteka apartment blocks. They always looked strange at night; towering and ominous. The windows were all much further into the building then the openings and the city lights sent shadows scaling upwards. The three of them paused briefly, unmoving.  
“Go on then.” Siris nodded upwards, “levitate.”  
Felix’s lip upturned into a scowl.  
“Comedy gold. You’re hilarious.” Locus looked back at him, catching the wound in the corner of his eye. He nearly winced at the amount of crimson. There was no chance Felix was getting to his apartment alone.

Locus was the first to step outside the car, followed by a yell of protest from Felix which was cut off by the slam of his door. Only, irritatingly, to be followed by a continued yell as he opened Felix’s door.  
“What’re you doing?” He looked almost offended.  
“Getting you to your apartment.”  
“I’m. Good. I can get there.” Felix thought he’d have to spell it out.  
“Lies.” Against his will, Locus had looped an arm under Felix’s and had pulled him out the car.

It was the first time any of them had been thankful for the fact that it was the early hours of the night. Most people were asleep and there were only a mere number of windows which had light beaming from them. Siris had jumped from the car, only briefly hesitating to look down at his shoes in disgust as he landed in the gutter. Murky water had splashed up by his ankles.  
“Gross.” Felix whispered.  
“You’re covered in blood and you think a little gutter water is gross?” Siris asked, looking to Locus as if he could explain any of Felix’s logic. _Locus couldn’t._

It quickly became apparent just how much of a lie Felix had been telling. Although he complained about it, the only reason Felix was getting anywhere was because of Locus. He looked unhappy about it but the majority of Felix’s weight, which was notably minimal, was being carried by Locus. Occasionally some steps shot enough pain through Felix for him to dig his nails into Locus’ shoulder. There was no other sign of pain besides that and his limp. Siris was a lookout, although he wasn’t exactly sure where to look. He hadn’t been wrong about Enteka Street’s blocks being huge. You could never have your eyes everywhere at once. Siris admirably tried his best regardless of that very obvious fact.

Felix became somewhat more confident with each step, falling into a rhythm with Locus. By the time they’d gotten to the door Felix’s grip on Locus wasn’t as defiant. Instead it felt accepting. A part of Locus knew that it was in Felix’s nature to be stubborn no matter how irritating the trait was. The rest of Locus just wanted to slap some sense into the smaller man and tell him that his stubbornness was benefiting a grand total of utterly no one. Would Felix listen, however, was an entirely different issue.

Neither Siris nor Locus had ever actually stepped foot in the Enteka apartment blocks. It met most of Siris’ expectations. The first floor consisted of mailboxes all coloured in the coldest shade of slate grey. All four hundred mailboxes covered the entirety of the walls expect for a pin board immediately opposite the entrance. All the mailboxes were littered with scratch marks and poorly painted over graffiti. Locus couldn’t help but look at the writing and try to decipher it. There were a lot of poorly written letters, all covered over by a paint which was just a slight shade too light compared to the rest of the room. In seemingly desperate, manic writing were the numbers _2-4-1-10_. Locus narrowed his eyes, they rung a bell but he couldn’t place an origin.

At one end of the room was an elevator, the other end was the staircase. The elevator had a small dent in it but other than that was reasonably unscathed. The air was significantly cold and still, not to mention the silence was eerie. The ding of the elevator was almost ear piercing but it wasn’t as disturbing as the groan the elevator made as the doors struggled to open smoothly.

The air was just as cold in the elevator only it seemed much clammier. In the silence of the moving elevator, Locus could hear Felix’s pained breaths. He could feel the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he lent all of his weight against him. Briefly, Locus looked down to Felix. His eyes were staring to the floor, as if in search for something.  
“Aren’t these things supposed to play music?” Siris inquired, seeming genuinely curious.  
“Yes...” Felix trailed off, providing no context.  
“Well, why isn’t it?” Siris raised a hand slightly, as if open to suggestions.  
“I _may_ have shot it.”  
All eyes went to the speaker which was certainly damaged beyond repair. Parts were shattered and seemingly scorched, barely hanging from the corner.  
“Of course you did...”  
That returned a smirk to Felix’s pale face.

As the doors jolted open, the first thing Locus noticed was the carpet. It was a deep red colour, almost mahogany. The blood Felix was trailing blended right in. Felix’s room wasn’t far from the elevator entrance. Every apartment looked the same from the outside, almost like a cell block. Locus immediately noticed that the apartment number 237 was outlined in a thin line of bright orange. Felix turned the key, letting go of Locus.  
“You go to a hospital or you go nowhere. I’m placing you under house arrest, _Isaac_.” Locus warned him with a hiss of his real name, Felix’s eyebrow raised sharply.  
“If you need help treating it I cou—” Siris offered but Felix simply scoffed and said,  
“I’ve got it. I know a guy. Don’t need you two watching over me like hawks. Get this Lozano shit sorted out, get our pay, drop by when you’ve got my share.” Without much more, Felix essentially ‘shoo-ed’ the two of them away. God knows where he found the strength considering a mere moment beforehand he couldn’t stand by himself.

The instant the door slammed in their faces, Siris had turned to Locus and sighed,  
“He doesn’t have a guy, does he?”  
“Doubtful.”  
“He’s going to try and treat it himself, isn’t he?”  
“Probable.”  
“I forgot how little you talk.”  
Locus raised an eyebrow at him, crossed his arms and turned around to leave.  
“Where to from here?”  
“To, and I quote, _get this Lozano shit sorted_.”  
“And you plan to do that how?”  
“Marcus Ranier.”

Siris had to quicken his pace to meet Locus in the elevator. The moment the door closed there was an instant sense of tension. Siris’ lips were pressed together firmly, and his brow was furrowed.  
“Problem?” Locus eventually asked.  
“Slightly. I don’t trust Ranier.”  
“No sane person does.” Locus didn’t know how exactly to approach Siris’ issue.

Marcus Ranier was known amongst the community as _a man of many trades_. He organised a lot of contracts, dealt a lot of arms and was a well-known fence. The only issue was that a lot of people known to go into business with him had seemingly disappeared. He had a track record of losing clients whom he seemed to have disagreements with.  
“You plan on, what, driving to his place and haggling?” When Siris got frustrated, he would snap slightly. He pressed the elevator button with a little too much force.  
“I plan on telling him the truth. Lozano died at our hands. We have their cars and equipment. They were rivals, Ranier will be grateful.”  
Siris paused briefly, letting silence join the creaks of the elevator.  
“I don’t think Ranier has ever been grateful in his miserable life.”

No one in such a business usually was grateful. Unsurprisingly, smiles and laughs weren’t exactly the keys to success. Locus seemed almost made for the job; cold, unsmiling. Machine-like. Just like how he had barely taken a glance at the blood that stained his suit. Blood that wasn’t his, barely acknowledged. An uncared-for origin. The numbers and words etched into the mailboxes, however, Locus _did_ take an interest in. That surprised Siris. Everything about Locus surprised Siris.

After hiring Locus a few times, Siris had expected to know his client better than he felt like he did. Anything Siris predicted about Locus was more than likely to be incorrect. Moves and calculations; all different than expected. Locus’ mind simply worked differently and there was a drive within Siris that pushed him to figure out just why that was. Why did Locus think the way he did? What drove him?

The bigger question on his mind; _what drove him to stay with Felix?_

That had been Siris’ first job with Felix and in that single job he had nearly lost everything. Years of patience and careful calculations nearly destroyed by two hired-guns who seemed to have nothing to lose but their lives. And each other. Yet as Siris watched Locus’ eyes focused on the road, he couldn’t figure out what drove Locus to work with Felix. There was something Siris was missing. A piece to a shattered puzzle.  
“You’re wondering about Felix.”  
Siris panicked for a mere moment, trying to figure out how Locus had read his mind.  
“I am. He’s just a bit…” Siris couldn’t find the words.  
“Insufferable.” Locus didn’t miss a beat.  
“I wouldn’t say that, he’s just very different to you.”  
Locus simply huffed at that, not taking his eyes off the road for even a fraction of a second.  
“Like I told you; he’s good.”  
Aware it wouldn’t do it any good, Siris didn’t ask another question. Instead he took some time to try and analyse exactly what Locus had meant by that. It was the second time he’d heard Locus install any amount of faith into someone. The first had also been about Felix. Faith was a rarity for Locus, Siris knew that much.  
“He has really got to you somehow…”  
Locus glanced at him for a few seconds but said nothing. Eyes returned to the road and his foot pressed harder against the pedal.

Siris decided against pushing any further and, instead, had called a few of his contacts. Ranier kept out of the public eyes for his own safety and would often travel from place to place without any indication. Luckily, they managed to get some sort of lead. A trustworthy source told Siris that Ranier was on the outskirts of the immediate city for some sort of meeting in the morning. Who the meeting was with and what the meeting was about was not something the source knew. The source had also made a point of questioning just why they were after Rainer. Locus and Siris were guns for hire but they were always intent on bettering the world. Ranier did _not_ do that.

Although the drive was a short distance Siris put forward a range of ideas and they discussed it to _death_. A consequence which was ironically possible. The biggest issue was that their numbers had gone down by one. After a lengthy debate the two had settled on a plan. As the car approached Ranier’s temporary residence, at a painfully slow speed, both Locus and Siris saw the red laser dots from snipers appear against the windscreen. A gate towered before them; metal bars covered over in a light tan shade tarp. Lookouts were barely visible in the dark, only worsened by a huge spotlight which shone directly down on their car. Locus watched the movement of the ed laser as it lined itself up in perfect symmetry to the middle of his forehead. A pull of the trigger and he could be dead in an instant.  
“What now?”  
Before Locus could even consider Siris’ question, there was a sudden bang against Locus’ window. Siris jumped, Locus barely flinched. The window was down in a second and by it stood a guard. Dressed in a suit clearly trying to disguise a bullet proof vest and a pair of sunglasses, the guard didn’t say anything. In one hand, a torch used to briefly blind the both of them. In the other, a sub-machine gun. He clutched it so tightly that Locus wondered if they were preparing for an attack. If so, it was a bad time to be arriving unannounced.

“We have no record of a scheduled meeting.”  
“We didn’t organise a meeting.”  
“Then I’m afraid you must leave, Ranier is a busy man, he will be _displeased._ ” Displeased meant livid. Displeased meant bullets.  
“He won’t be displeased when he hears us out.” Siris’ tone went flat and threatening.  
“No scheduled meeting; no meeting at all—”  
“It’s about Ruben Lozano.” Locus interrupted. That caught the guard’s attention. His brow furrowed behind his sunglasses, they could only imagine that his eyes narrowed. After a few moments of contemplation, the guard pulled a radio out.  
“Tell Ranier there are two men at the gate. Seemingly unarmed, saying they bring news about Lozano.”  
Siris didn’t like long pauses. Especially long pauses during critical moments. Whomever was at the other end of that radio must’ve known that Siris didn’t like long pauses as he went out of his way to not respond immediately.  
_“Check six.”_  
“Checked.”  
_“Remove them from their vehicle, be sure they’re unarmed.”_  
The guard jolted his head back and gestured with his gun. Both Locus and Siris stepped out hesitantly, smart enough to not take any weapons with them.  
“Can’t stand people who wear sunglasses at night,” Siris scoffed under his breath.  
Locus was always straight faced when he was checked for weapons, this time hadn’t been any different. Siris always struggled to not look uncomfortable. He always scrunched up his nose in the slightest and couldn’t help sometimes moving defensively at foreign hands. He was just thankful Felix hadn’t been there; Felix wouldn’t have been calm in the slightest. He would have been snide or, alternatively, picked a fight. They had been told to wait at the front of the car, with their hands above their heads. Red lasers trailed their chests, multiple barrels were pointed in their direction.  
“I’ll do the talking.” Locus looked him dead in the eyes when Siris said that. “You’re not exactly... a people person...”  
“Mhm. So I’ve been told.”

Ranier had been quicker than Locus had expected, there was a sense of punctuality in his stride. The guards that walked beside him had that same sense, only seemingly driven by anxiety. Ranier looked late thirties although it was never really an easy guess when it came to people in that business. Violence ages people. He had short brown hair with tattoos that scaled his neck. There was a whole range of different symbols painted on him with ink but nothing even remotely identifiable. He had a small scar on his lip, beady grey eyes, and an eyebrow piercing. Despite that, the suit he wore made him look beyond professional. The tie was a deep red and, unlike Locus’, it was free of any blood.  
“You have news of Lozano?” As he spoke, he cracked his knuckles. The glare he shot to Siris sent a chill down his spine.  
“He is dead, at our hands.” Siris announced, receiving a number of chuckles from the guards. They all went silent in unison as Ranier raised his hand. The control he had over them was eerie, a show of raw power.  
“Dead? Lozano? No chance. Unless you mean his son.”  
“I mean Gabriel. I mean Ruben. I mean all their best men. Hell, I mean _all_ of their men.”  
Ranier’s stare hardened, jumping between the two of them as he tried to analyse them further.  
“You expect me to just believe the word of two nobodies?”  
“Of course not. This, here, is Lozano’s car. You can check that it’s genuine. It’s one of many which we now have. They’re not in perfect condition but they are his. We have his equipment too.”

Locus had no trouble staying silent throughout their exchange, he was appreciating the chance to size Ranier up for himself.  
“What are you suggesting, exactly?”  
Locus and Siris exchanged a quick glance.  
“You’re a fence. You take the equipment and cars off us _for a price_.”  
“Seems a little, what’s the word, pointless?”  
Siris didn’t have a plan after that. Panic swelled for a quick minute, growing stronger as the silence embraced it.  
“We let you claim credit for the kills, you won’t hear from us again.” Locus finally broke his silence, “do we have a deal?” His deep voice had a threatening tone in his drawl. Ranier took another moment to stare each of them down, drawing the moment out as long as possible until Siris could hear his heart thudding in his ears.

_“Deal.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the journey begins! I'm excited to keep writing this.


	3. House Arrest On Enteka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix tried to treat his wound under house arrest.

**_F E L I X_ **

  
Felix had always been impatient. Almost all the conflict he’d unintentionally been involved in had been because of his lack of patience. What was worse was when he had to deal with his impatience in his own isolation. Felix didn’t like silence. Silence gave him free room to think and that freedom could be dangerous. So it was ironic that the silence of the apartment was beginning to make Felix impatient.  
“House arrest, fucking kidding me Ortez...” he mumbled to himself, staring up at a vent in his ceiling. A vent he’d been looking at for so long to the point where he could describe every millimeter of it in ridiculous detail.   
  
His leg ached in a way that was almost indescribable. It was almost like a burning, only not. It was kind of like a stinging, only not. It did ache, but it was more of a background ache. The wound itself felt hot. Hot was an understatement. The torn flesh felt like it was being shocked by electricity. The smallest movements sent burning shockwaves through his body. Felix would wince and shrink back from it, more irritated by it then discomforted.   
  
He had managed to roll the fabric up past the wound itself. It was a mess of flesh and blood. Dried clumps of deep crimson trickling with fresh scarlet. Skin in ruin, tearing at the seams. It hadn’t been a puncture but a skim of his leg. The bruise at the bone was beginning to look worse somehow. His pale skin washed in shades of violet, like watercolour, staining the skin as if it were ink.   
  
All attempts at treating the wound had failed. So he decided against it and had, instead, found himself lying across the bed. Staring at the ceiling, bored out of his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder where Locus and Siris were, or what they were planning. There was a number of people in the city who would accept such an offer. Yet, Felix knew that talking to anyone who wasn’t into crime would, in itself, be dangerous. They’d be basically handing themselves in which meant they weren’t currently dealing with the good guys. They’d be making deals with the bad ones. Someone who wouldn’t snitch, and someone willing to pay the hefty price.   
  
That idea made Felix want to be there even more.   
  
“House arrest... give me a fucking break.” He muttered, again. He could potentially leave. Locus had only threatened him; he had no way of genuinely checking that Felix was home. He thought maybe he should text Locus. Something simple that would get his point across. Something like,  
_“I believe I speak for all people under house arrest when I say, this is bullshit.”_  
Or maybe even simpler,  
_“You’re an asshole. Much love,_  
_The man you put under house-fucking-arrest.”_  
The more patronising, the better. Irritatingly, Locus was very similar over text to how he was in real life. Silent. Locus usually left Felix on read, something he could never quite tell whether to be offended by or not.   
  
Felix could have texted Siris but that wouldn’t be as fun. Felix found a pleasure in irritating Locus, a strange habit he couldn’t seem to break. There was something amusing about the cold, threatening gun-for-hire being annoyed at little comments. But as much fun as Felix had messing with Locus’ head, he was damn glad they were on the same side.   
  
Whenever he thought back to the time where they weren’t on the same side and things were certainly different. The bad kind of different. The kind of different wanted to forget. A lifestyle you wished you hadn’t lived. Although as Locus had told Felix on multiple occasions, usually before making a rash decision, _one’s present is determined by one’s past_. Felix liked his present, even with a raging flesh wound and the threat of house arrest.   
  
Felix could have been mature about it but he was determined not to let it go. House arrest, what did Locus think he was? _A child._  
  
When Felix looked at his leg, he was reminded that he was doing exactly the opposite of what Siris and Locus has asked of him. He had to treat that wound and soon. Felix didn’t want to risk infection, he knew the importance of it, however his mind was elsewhere and it was much too early in the morning. His arms dealer hadn’t called him back and there was a nagging feeling within him that screamed _you should be at that meeting right now._  
  
The next thought was; _if the arms dealer is blocking calls because they know what’s happened, then what’s the bet the medic will pick up?_ Slim, Felix assumed, it was a damn slim chance. As he turned his phone on, the light was enough for him to flinch back from it slightly. Last thing he needed was holes in his retinas. On the lock screen, there was a text he hadn’t seen from nearly half an hour prior.   
  
_“_ ** _Mace. 6:57am._**  
_For your peace of mind, we’re on our way to make the deal. Locus has a plan.”_  
Felix quickly typed back.   
“You don’t know me at all if you think a plan made by Locus will bring me peace of mind.”   
He waited a mere minute or so before typing again,   
_“Also, not elaborating further then ‘a plan’ brings me to the opposite of peace of mind. It’s like when someone says ‘can I ask you something’ and then doesn’t respond for an hour. Just ask the damn question, don’t ask if you can ask.”_   
  
Felix didn’t expect an immediate response. He imagined they were in said meeting, acting out said plan. A plan with no details was nothing more then a thought and Felix was having a million thoughts. He lay back against the mattress, aware his leg would be staining the sheets, and simply _thought_. Of course that spiral was dangerous and before long he was contemplating different ways in which Locus and Siris were suffering horrific torture. Maybe even death.   
  
His eyes were preoccupied by the rising sun slowly illuminating more features of his room as it crept further up into the sky. Cobwebs he hadn’t brought himself to sweep away, a crack in the window’s glass he hadn’t brought himself to repair. The room’s view was nice, it was also blocked by many other large buildings. His phone buzzing brought him back into the present.   
  
_“_ ** _Mace. 7:37am._**  
_Woah. I clearly pulled a string there. I will never ask you if I can ask a question._  
_P.S. You should have more faith in Locus, The Plan went well.”_  
Felix scoffed aloud.   
_“Capitalising ‘The Plan’ doesn’t give it anymore importance or clarification, thanks for literally nothing.”_  
There was no response for a few minutes. Felix tossed his phone beside him and looked to the part of the bed sheet stained in crimson. He sighed, knowing it would take a while to clean properly. His phone buzzed again.   
  
_“_ ** _An Actual Asshat. 7:42am._**  
_Can I ask you a question?”_  
That was it. Felix hated Locus. No doubt about it.   
_“You’re living up to your name in my contacts buddy. Up yours.”_  
  
Felix put his phone under his pillow out of spite. The buzz would be muffled beneath it and Felix would be blissfully unaware of any messages. This time, he’d go ghost on Locus. And hopefully, with a bit of luck, he’d annoy him. A little payback for treating Felix like a child. Whom was certainly acting like one.   
  
Felix made his way to the bathroom, each step stung but he could make it without showing how much it hurt. No hissing through his teeth, no cursing at the air. He did however curse at the bath’s tap which never seemed to turn the first time around. Instead it screeched, hesitated, then seemed to snap as water gushed from it. Pouring an adequate amount of salt into the rising water, Felix left it running for a minute.   
  
Limping over to the window, Felix took a moment to watch the world wake up. A sunrise of a baby blue background dotted with clouds of rose, lilac and golden linings was painted across the sky. Towering buildings were emerging from their silence and stillness. Curtains were being drawn, car engines were being started. Felix could only imagine the hundreds of coffee machines that were grinding tonnes of beans to serve the only fuel that seemed to help anyone begin their long, seemingly endless weekdays. Felix was hit with a strange thought. Not too far away, on the outskirts of town, lay over fifty men riddled with bullets. Beside them, cars which were currently being auctioned off by two bounty hunters whose only experience in the criminal world was contracts intending to stop the people they were now making deals with.   
  
_Shit happens. The world turns._  
  
Felix drew the blinds, glad for the darkness they blessed him with. In his eyes were white discs that slowly disappeared as he adjusted to the sudden darkness. He briefly checked the time; 8:02am. A good time to start treating his wound. He would have done it the minute after he’d slammed the door in his partners’ faces but if he had made any noise, the neighbours would have questioned it. Irritating, having walls made of paper.   
  
Felix walked over to his radio, sweeping his hand over the light layer of dust that had gathered on its surface. Felix only ever used it if he needed noise to cover a different noise. The song didn’t matter, the channel didn’t matter, as long as the residents of apartments 236 and 238 weren’t aware of the self-inflicted surgery that was occurring.   
  
_—cause he's given me a beating and that's real,_  
_Give less than a fuck how you feel,_  
_They say they're busting spades,_  
_But you all know the deal,_  
_I'm holding all the aces, got it locked, signed, and sealed—_  
  
Almost automatically, Felix zoned the lyrics out. He closed the door to the bathroom as well, so the song simply faded into a muffled background noise. Lowering his foot into the mere amount of warm water, he submerged the cloth. He had always preferred water to be just at the temperature that would hurt him the slightest bit. Small stinging sensations that left his pale skin a flushed red. So the lukewarm, salt filled water wasn’t exactly his idea of therapeutic. It was good for cleaning wounds, however.   
  
This was the part Felix braced himself for. It wasn’t a huge brace-for-impact but he felt his chest tighten slightly, readying himself for the pain that would come with cleaning the wound. Without failure, the salt-soaked cloth definitely threw a punch. As the cloth began to reveal the wound’s true nature, the water faded into a light shade of pink. Blood swirled amongst it, staining the water colour. Felix scrunched his nose up at the wound, briefly catching the cloth in the wound and sending a shock through himself. He threw his other fist out to punch the wall.  
“Son of a bitch.” He whispered to himself, knowing that was exactly why the radio was on. Bandaging the wound up was the easy part,   
  
_—keep their heavy metal,_  
_Be it mics or machine guns we gotta score to settle,_  
_Echo, a gunshot, for sun blocks,_  
_So loud it can make the whole city jump—_  
  
Even after shutting the radio off, sleep was difficult to come by. Felix would slip into unconsciousness with horrific brief periods of consciousness. A wrong move and his leg shot pain through him, a wrong thought and he awoke breathless. There were rarely dark places in his mind that only came to light once he fell asleep. He usually slept quite well, well enough to get jobs done in the least. When sleeping failed, Felix restored to staring. Staring at nothing, for hours. At some point he had to have passed out as the clock   
read: 6:38pm, in a flashing neon orange colour.   
“Proud of me Ortez? I’ve waste an entire day.” Felix was talking to hismelf in frustration. Remembering his phone, he decided to check it. He did have a few messages but one from five hours ago caught his eye.   
  
_“_ ** _An Actual Asshat. 1:53pm._**  
_Remember you’re on house arrest, Felix. Your door shouldn’t even be in walking distance for you.”_  
Felix realised, after he read that text, what he was missing. What he really needed, was a drink. As luck would have it, there was a bar only a mere street away.   
  
In walking distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone send help, season 16 is ruining me.


	4. New Players and Homonym Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus and Siris get specific with their deal.

**S I R I S**

“Deal.”   
Siris hadn’t expected to hear those words. Not with such little persuading. Not without an argument of sorts. No blood had been spilt, no bones broken. Maybe the idea of the criminal world that had been drilled into Siris’ head wasn’t entirely accurate. Just maybe, deals could be made without conflict. Or maybe, they fitted into the criminal world better then they had expected.    
  
Siris hoped it wasn’t the latter.    
  
“Come with me. Let’s go somewhere more private to discuss payment.”   
As they followed Ranier through the corridors of shredded wallpapers and smashed windows, Siris noticed there was a fair few more men than he had expected Ranier to have. Guards dressed in suits, all with cufflinks of shimmering maroon stones. The exact same colour as Ranier’s tie, he noted. That meant Ranier was organised, his men had uniforms. A discreet sign of dominance. The maroon was everywhere in some shape or form. It decorated Ranier’s gloves, a streak of it ran through his hair, Siris couldn’t help but wonder if it had a deeper meaning. Colours were poetic in that sense, there was usually more meaning behind it then first thought.    
  
Eventually they came to room. It was average sized and looked as if it hadn’t held people in it for years. Locus and Siris started wondering what the place was, or at least, what it  _ had  _ been. There was very few signs anyone had ever been housed below that roof of moulding rafters. Cigarette butts left in the corner, a few bullet casings scattered on a stained beige carpet which, years and years ago, may have resembled white. To the room’s left there was a cabinet dented inward, as if it had been kicked. Dead in the middle of the room was a wooden table that looked almost unused. There was very few scratches and no stains of any sort. No pen scribbles, no ink, nothing. It did look old though, as if it had been placed right in that same spot years ago, doomed to a lifetime of nothingness. Behind that table, a single black leather chair with a tear down the left of its cover.    
  
“I can tell you’re both wondering why we are residing here.” Ranier predicted, taking a seat.    
Siris noted something important in that sentence: the word ‘we’. Seemingly unimportant until he had considered the alternatives.  _ Wondering why my men and I are residing here. _ Or even more selfish: _ wondering why I am residing here. _ Ranier didn’t separate himself from his men. Against his wishes, Siris gained a minuscule amount of respect for him.    
“We move. Often. Been here a few too many weeks though. I heard there’s an abandoned quarry not too far away, might move there.” He smirked slightly, highlighting the scar on his lip. It was on the left side of his mouth, starting from above the top lip and trailing downwards. The scar itself was quite wide and jagged. It ended just before the bottom of his chin.    
“It’s all yours.” Siris didn’t smile but he did lift the corner of his lips in the slightest. After all, Locus scowled much better than Siris did. The two guards that stood either side of Ranier didn’t acknowledge any of it.    
“I will be sure to appreciate it. A bit blood stained at the moment, I imagine? We’ll get it cleaned in no time. Now, payment. I don’t want to hold you boys here any longer then I need to. I’m thinking six million credits.”    
  
Siris did his best to blankly react to the offer, Locus didn’t have a problem keeping his deadpan expression. The offer was better than Siris had been hoping; three times the original mission’s pay.    
“Seven.” The word had left the tip of his tongue before he even had the chance to process it. “For the equipment and the credit for killing the Lozano’s? Seven.”    
He was pushing their luck. Nothing confirmed that more then when even Locus slightly raised an eyebrow at him. Siris had become Felix for a mere moment, risky and just the slightest bit too headstrong. A part of Siris expected Ranier to snap. For his rusty voice to turn vile and threatening. Instead, his eyes lingered for a few moments longer before he smiled. Whether it was genuine was something Siris couldn’t work out.    
“Six.” A challenge, Ranier was putting up a front. His guards looked more tense, as if they expected the situation to become aggravated.    
“Se—“ Siris was cut off,    
“Six and a half.” Locus interrupted, seemingly impatient. Siris had been somewhat glad for the interjection; Siris didn’t like pushing his luck. He was fond of well set boundaries and abiding by regulation. Smirking at Locus, Ranier’s narrowed eyes moved back to Siris.    
“Well. Lozano was always a thorn in my side. Six and half. Do we have a deal?” He held his hand out across the table, the leather glove decorated with swirling patterns of maroon. Siris hesitated,   
“Deal.”   
  
A part of Siris knew if Felix been there, he wouldn’t have given up so easily. Majority of Siris knew it was better Felix wasn’t there at all. The Lozano contract had been the first contract Siris had done ground work for with Locus and Felix. He had been surprised by how the two of them worked together. Whether that surprise was good or bad was still up for debate. They’d been working together for a while but working recon for the two of them was new. Siris didn’t know how he felt about continuing it.    
  
“I like the two of you...” Ranier took a seat, running his hand over his chin in thought, “any chance you’re employed by anyone in this business?”   
“If we were, why would we be here?” Siris narrowed his eyes,    
“The traitor count in this business  _ skyrockets _ . The two of you didn’t introduce yourselves, I wouldn’t be able to check with anyone.”    
The only word that could be used to accurately describe Ranier’s voice was  _ rusty _ . It sounded as if he had barbwire caught in his throat.    
“My apologies, I’m Siris.” A flicker of regret ran through him, he didn’t want to seem disrespectful.    
“Locus.” Monotone, still threatening.    
“There’s actually three of us,” Siris explained, “the other is dealing with an injury at the moment.”    
“My sincerest wishes for him. I think he’ll be glad to know it was worth it.”    
“Oh I think he’ll find a way to bitch about it regardless.” Siris said the words in a joking manner but he  _ did  _ mean them. Ranier laughed, Siris didn’t know whether to find it unsettling or not.    
“I’ll escort you from the area, don’t want you thinking in a bad host.”    
  
Siris half smiled to him as Ranier lead the two of them from the room. As he passed, Siris could see his tattoos in better detail. Outlines of metal cogs and mechanical wheels in a deep maroon trailed his neck. Little uneven crosses in the same shade were placed randomly over the cogs and on random patches of skin. All of them spiralling up and stopping just below and between his jaw and ear. Siris wondered what it meant but didn’t dare ask.    
  
There was something about Ranier’s walk, a limp almost. It seemed although his right ankle wasn’t centred. It angled itself inward slightly and sabotaged the professionalism that was Ranier’s walk. He was slender but held himself with such confidence that he looked as if he could best anyone in a fight. He probably could’ve and with the amount of guards he had it was no surprise that no one had tried. Ranier wore his injuries as trophies, presented then with pride. Siris couldn’t help but look to Locus, whose scar was once again covered up. Siris didn’t know the origin of that scar, all he knew was that Locus wasn’t proud of it.    
  
“I’ve been in this game for a while now,  _ Gentlemen _ .” From the silence of the escort, Ranier took it upon himself to speak. “Most of the clients I’ve had were all much more inconsiderate then the two of you. Demanding. Unreasonable. Arrogant. Selfish. Power hungry. All of them have wanted to sweep the rug out from under my feet...”   
“A lot of  _ crims  _ are like that.” Siris found himself walking beside Ranier, without his guards getting much closer or lingering. Locus was falling behind with watchful eyes.    
“Indeed. The both of you are a welcome change. And to thank you for that; you can keep the car you drove here.”    
The guards opened the doors for the three of them, as if they were royalty. The car in discussion was sitting just by the old dirt path.    
“Are you sure?” Siris’ concern bloomed from the potential decrease in payment.    
“As long as you fix her up. Few scratches, bit of blood, don’t know if the police would approve. I’ll leave you two here, for now, however I hope our paths cross once more. Nice to meet some people new to the game, the old players were getting somewhat boring...”    
  
Ranier shook their hands once more before turning back without so much of a glance. As if their brief presence in his life had contributed so little that they were barely worth acknowledgement. They were watched with suspicious sternness as Locus pressed his foot down on the pedal.    
“I don’t like him.”    
Had Locus said anything else, Siris would’ve been surprised. Yet, he still rolled his eyes.    
“Do you like anyone?” A rhetorical question Siris knew the answer to. Locus didn’t like anyone, he simply put up with their presence. “He doesn’t seem too bad to me.”   
“You’re smarter than that.” Locus huffed, checking the rearview mirror. Siris knew that look in Locus’ eyes; he was watching for any sign that they were being followed.    
“You think I trust him?” Siris was offended slightly by the assumption.    
“No.  _ Because you’re smarter than that. _ In some instances, it’s safer to be weary. We’re bounty hunters, Siris, not mercenaries. This world isn’t ours. It’s our enemies. Don’t forget that.”    
  
He knew Locus was right. He did wonder, however, just how much wiser Locus could be. How many intelligent thoughts were being restrained by the forts that made up Locus? What constructed that impenetrable facade? Just how much of it was a facade? All questions Siris doubted he’d ever find answers too. Siris briefly checked his phone.    
  
_ “ _ **_Gates. 7:32am._ ** __  
_ You don’t know me at all if you think a plan made by Locus will bring me peace of mind. _ __  
**_Gates. 7:34am._ ** __  
_ Also, not elaborating further then ‘a plan’ brings me to the opposite of peace of mind. It’s like when someone says ‘can I ask you something’ and then doesn’t respond for an hour. Just ask the damn question, don’t ask if you can ask.”  _   
  
“My god, Felix is a nightmare through text.” Siris whispered.    
“It’s because you can’t punch him when he’s being annoying over the phone.”    
Siris huffed and laugh as he typed back.    
_ “Woah. I clearly pulled a string there. I will never ask you if I can ask a question.  _ __  
_ P.S. You should have more faith in Locus, The Plan went well.”  _ __  
_ “ _ **_Gates. 7:37am_ ** __  
_ Capitalising ‘The Plan’ doesn’t give it anymore importance or clarification, thanks for literally nothing.” _ __  
  
“What’re we doing now?” Siris asked, “do I tell Felix we’re going back to him, or?”   
“We get this car fixed. Make sure it’s not recognisable as Lozano’s property.”   
Siris suddenly had an idea, he smirked to himself.    
“I need you to text Felix the next time we pull over...”    
It was only a few mere minutes before they did pull over, Locus was beyond confused when Siris told him to ask Felix about asking a question. Usually he reserved text for more important things but Siris was much too enthusiastic about it for Locus to deny his request.    
_ “Can I ask you a question?” _   
“What was the point of—“ Locus’ phone buzzed.    
_ “ _ **_Felix. 7:43am._ ** __  
_ You’re living up to your name in my contacts there buddy. Up yours.”  _   
  
Siris found it much more amusing then Locus did, laughing more than Locus had heard him laugh in a while. Maybe it was the deal that had worked seemingly swimmingly, maybe Siris was right to be as optimistic as he was. After all, the transfers had come through as they were all in a possession of a small fortune. Locus understood a fraction of that small fortune would have to go to the car’s repairs. Siris was a little less willing to spend a mere amount of their newly possessed savings so soon.    
  
Siris was quite familiar with the mechanic they visited, Jay Richardson. He was a mechanic for the public but, unbeknownst to the general people, Jay wouldn’t deny working a bit on the illegal side. He agreed to fix the car, without so much as an inquiry about its origin. Of course that silent ignorance came with a price, Jay wasn’t stupid. He could recognise that car. Siris took it upon himself to volunteer his and Locus’ time to assist in the repairs. His shop looked busy, stacked to the brim with vehicles of all colours and models. Locus could recognise bullet damages and burnt out tyres. Anyone with a keen eye could recognise the crime-related vehicles. They were all buried beneath family cars and accident damages, just enough to create a seamless facade.    
  
Locus took a few seconds to message Felix, reminding him of the reality of his informal house arrest. Locus had expected some sort of patronising text from Felix,   
_ “I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a fork then be dealing with this bullshit.” _ __  
Or maybe something even simpler like,   
_ “This is the worst. Fuck you.  _ __  
_ Sincerely, a man under house arrest.”  _ __  
But to their surprise, Felix had remained somewhat quiet.    
  
As the sun began to dip in the sky, and the car was beginning to become roadworthy, Locus had said it would be important to pay Felix a visit. He suggested he walked, and that once the car was ready Siris could meet him at the blocks on Enteka street. There was no part of Siris that thought he could convince Locus to do anything else once he’d made his mind up. So he kept working with Jay, doing his best to keep his mind off of his wife. She was going to be livid if he didn’t get home sometime soon. She was mostly understanding, which Siris had always been thankful for. But did have the right to be mad, if she so wished. His mind was pulled back into the present as his phone buzzed.    
_ “ _ **_Ortez. 4:35pm._ ** __  
_ I’ve found Felix. He’s taking shots.”  _   
Siris furrowed his brow at the homonym.    
  
__ “What kind of shots?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end of season 16 was a thing.


	5. Screaming Cells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus tries to deal with Felix's drunken, concussed and wounded state.

**L O C U S**

  
  
It was easy to picture Locus’ disappointment when he’d found Felix in the bar. He’d been walking past when he’d heard Felix’s voice. Locus had always found solace in walking, he was an expert at filtering out the noise of every day life to make enough room to think. So when he’d passed the bar, ignorant of the drunken chatter and clinking of glasses, he’d been surprised to hear a familiar laugh. It had called out to him, reached out through the filtered silence, and caught his attention. The rate Locus’ confusion turned into fuming rage was astonishing.    
  
He’d been surprised when Siris’ text asked what type of shot. The more he thought about it, however, the more sense the homonym made. Felix was unpredictable. Locus’ instincts screamed _go tell him just how badly he’s fucked up_. His rationality told him otherwise. So instead of grabbing the smaller man’s collar and hissing threats at him, Locus took a different approach. Felix sat at the bar, a glass in his hand and a woman by his side. Locus approached the bar with calmness.    
“Just a water, please.”   
Locus could see the exact second that Felix recognised his voice. Every single one of Felix’s muscles tensed, he froze. Eyes staring at the drink in his hand, refusing to acknowledge Locus.    
“Ah shit.” He let himself relax, he let his breath go. He knocked his shot back, placing the empty glass with what seemed like a collection. Eventually he looked at Locus, eyes uncertain. They held the gaze in silence, it seemed almost like a stand-off. The woman beside Felix slipped away, disappearing into the crowds of people.    
“This guy bothering you?” The bartender asked, placing a glass of water in front of Locus.    
“Oh, _endlessly_.” Felix sighed, brushing his hair back. The bartender’s eyes narrowed, as if were trying to be threatening. “Nothing to be worried about.”    
“Well... if that changes, give me shout.” As the bartender backed off, Felix gave him a wink. The tense silence flooded back the moment he was gone,    
“Seriously man, a water?” Felix broke the silence, his tone trying to seem innocent. A simple change of topics, a simple excuse not to make a scene.    
“Yes. I’m demonstrating what you should be drinking. Back at home. _Recovering_.”    
“Ugh, Locus, get out of my ass and let me recover on my own accord.”    
“Taking shots and hitting on women?”    
“Hey that’s not fair, you’re seeing everything in a very black and white sense here.”   
“What else is there to possibly see?!”    
“...not just women?” Felix shrugged. Locus’ fist tightened, his jaw clenched.    
  
_How did he get stuck with such an asshole of a partner?_ At least Siris was around to help keep him sane. Well, semi-sane. Locus wasn’t crazy. Locus _knew_ crazy. He knew better then the back of his hand just what crazy was. Never mind knowing exactly what crazy could _do_. There was no doubt in his mind that he, himself, was not crazy. Siris had quite quickly caught onto Locus’ opinions of the word and did his best to stray from using it. He rarely put it forward as an insult and phrases like ‘this is crazy’ became more of a rarity. Siris had respect for Locus, and if that meant changing his vocabulary a little, then he was more then willing.    
  
Felix, being Felix, had taken a little longer to realise. Yes it was obvious Locus wasn’t fond of the word but Locus wasn’t fond of _anything_ , so Felix had struggled to differentiate between them. The growls Locus muttered at the word being use as an insult eventually caught up to Felix, who decided to extend his vocabulary rather then change it. Crazy was then referred to as the _'C Word_ ' but other phrases began to take its place. Odd, Felix found, that Locus had a problem with the word crazy but not insane, nuts, or even something as ludicrous as _batshit mental_. What Felix didn’t know was that Locus did have an issue with those words but getting Felix to change was a much bigger issue in itself. So whenever Felix was wound up in hissing insults and he spat words like deranged or unstable or disturbed, Locus couldn’t do much else but sigh to himself.    
  
“I couldn’t convince your ace ass of that though, could I?” Felix sighed, slurring his words slightly. For a moment he looked incredibly disappointed, the sadness in his eyes was foreign to Locus.    
“Felix, I don’t know what you’re talking about...?” More often then not, Locus was convinced he was in a world of his own. Felix blinked with a sudden urgency and the emotion in his eyes was gone.    
“I feel like I talk and you just never listen.” The smug smirk returned to Felix’s lips. Locus couldn’t help but frown, remembering the last time those words had left Felix’s mouth, they were accompanied with the moronic decision to throw his earpiece into a night club toilet. The start of the mess Locus was trying to fix, the start of the mess Felix was trying to forget through an unnecessary amount of alcohol.   
  
“Hey, where’s Siris?” Felix looked around at the faces in the bar before sarcastically muttering, “he doing some recon practice? He needs it...”    
“He’s helping repair Lozano’s car.”   
“Why?”    
“Ranier allowed us to keep it.”    
Felix nearly launched himself at Locus after that one. Felix clapped a hand over Locus’ mouth, the other gripping his shoulder.    
“Did you just fucking say Ranier?!” Felix hissed under his breath, looking around as if on watch. Locus shook his mouth free of Felix’s palm,   
“Yes.” He glared, Felix was much too wound up in the intensity of it all to even notice.    
“You can’t just... talk about this in public.” Felix stared into his drink. For a skilled actor, he was doing an awful job at looking natural. Although, his natural was much less natural then that of a regular person.    
“We wouldn’t have been in public. If you had been at your apartment. Like I _ordered_ you to be.”    
“Ohhhh well excuse me for having the freedom of thought! Didn’t realise you were in charge of me, _Ortez_.”    
“ _Code names_.” Grimacing, Locus closed his eyes to take a breath.    
“Sorry Sir, I’ll remember next time Sir!” When Locus opened his eyes again, he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Along the top of Felix’s shoe was a gradually growing layer of crimson. Further up the pant leg, a patch of deep scarlet.    
“Felix.”    
“Fuck you.”    
“Felix, you’re bleeding.”   
“Of course I’m bleeding, I was shot you fucking asshat. Sorry, _Sir Asshat._ ”    
Locus’ hand shot out, grabbing the back of Felix’s arm with the tightest grip. Nails dig into the thin limb, the skin reddening under the force.    
“We’re leaving, you need attention.” Locus turned Felix around, doing his best to keep the small, tipsy man upright on his feet.    
“There’s a term for that, it’s an attention whore, and I happen to think I’m exactly that. I’ve been on a journey of self discovery, Locus, it took me here...” Felix’s nonsensical rambling was only an irritating distraction.   
“You’re tipsy.”   
“You’re sober.”   
“You’re incredibly perceptive.”   
“You’re incredibly salty, up yours.” Felix huffed, trying to pull his arm away. Thankfully, his near-drunken coordination had failed him. Locus wasn’t even entirely sure if that had been an insult or not.    
  
The people in the bar caught Locus with elbows to the ribs and stepped on his feet. Locus hated bars. What Locus hasn’t considered was that Felix wouldn’t be as calm about it. The moment his nose was caught by the elbow of a stranger, he did exactly what Locus had feared. He lashed out.    
“Hey! Watch it!” Felix yelled, slapping the man’s upper arm. When the man twice his size turned to face him, Felix showed no fear. “Keep your elbows to yourself.”   
The man didn’t say anything. He had one beady brown eye, which did its best to pierce through Felix’s confidence with no success. The other eye was simply white, yet somehow seemed as if it could see through into Felix’s soul.     
“Don’t give me that fucking attitude.” The man growled, his voice deep but not as deep as Locus’. Locus tightened his grip, telling Felix to leave it and keep walking.    
“Excuse me, kind fuckwad—“   
“ _Felix!_ ”   
“—but I’ll give you whatever ‘fuckin attitude’ I see goddamn fit—“ The fist that caught Felix’s cheekbone echoed with a wince-worthy crack. The moment of impact, Locus stepped forward. He took the man’s collar and pulled him close enough for Locus to hiss.    
“Leave. While you still have one eye.” That one eye looked from Felix on the ground to Locus.    
“Don’t know why you’d fight for him...” he pulled himself from Locus’ grip and turned, blood smudged across his knuckles.    
  
Dazed on the floor with a split lip and no real sense of direction, Locus bent down to pick Felix up.    
“Locus...? What... in the everloving fuck are you doing here?” Locus looped his arm under Felix’s small waist and had pulled him upright. Locus furrowed his brow, Felix had to have hit his head on the floor.     
“Saving you from embarrassment and a bad hangover.”    
Felix was silent for a while, focusing on his broken walk.    
“Mhm, you’ve always got my back...”    
Locus had the urge to roll his eyes, only, that sentence had been different to all the others Felix had said. It hadn’t been laced with spite or sarcasm. He’d genuinely meant it.    
  
By some miracle, Locus had gotten Felix to the apartment blocks without so much as a glance from other pedestrians. He had been half-carrying, half-dragging Felix to the elevator and into his apartment. Beneath the bed he knew there was a plastic sheet which Locus had managed to get across the bed. Felix lay down at the head-end, staring up at the ceiling. Returning with a damp cloth and a small kit of supplies, Locus sat down the end and prepared himself for whatever mess Felix had caused this time.    
  
Rolling his pant leg up was a difficult challenge with the amount of blood plastered to Felix’s skin. The fabric was soaked but Locus managed to get it above the bandage. A very poorly secured bandage, which seemed to be falling apart. The gunshot had reopened in a mess of blood and damaged flesh.   
“Felix.” Locus breathed the words, “did you even treat this?”   
Silence. Locus pressed the cloth against the wound, dipping it back into the bowl of water. Crimson swirled amongst the water, before settling into a hazy pale rose. The wound looked less horrific clean of all the clotting scabs and fresh blood. His skin was still stained with bruising, it was a miracle he could walk. Locus watched as Felix grasped the sheets, pulling it into balls of fabric. His brow furrowing but, other then that, he stayed silent. He heard Felix groan in annoyance, a smile pulled lightly at the corner of Locus’ lips. Felix was definitely coming back around. His only reply was to tell Locus that he was bored as his eyes stared at the ceiling.   
“Hmph, really?” Locus had unraveled the bandage, securing it around Felix’s leg and wrapping it around. The pressure caused Felix to wince, fidgeting slightly on the bed. Siris had sent Locus a message saying that the repairs wouldn’t take much longer, that he would be around when he could. Locus and Felix discussed Ranier to death, Locus did not much more then describe the basics of the situation. Felix pushed with questions and inquiries about what Rainer was like. A little step into the world of crime and Felix was keen to learn as much as he could. Locus was convinced it was the only time Felix had ever actually listened to him.    
  
Locus moved closer to him,    
“Sit up further.” It was a demand. A calm demand but a demand nonetheless.    
“Yes Sir…” Felix scoffed, pushing himself further up the pillow. Dampening the cloth a little more, Locus leaned forward, moving the cloth to Felix’s lip and slowly pressing against it. He winced slightly, averting his gaze. The slit was uneven, wide and deep. For a moment, Locus saw Ranier's scar. The two woundw ere very much alike. Locus was strangely delicate with his movements, as if the cut on Felix’s lip would hurt more than the bullet wound. For a split second Locus had looked to Felix’s expression but it was a second long enough to notice it was shrouded in neglect.   
“What’s wrong?” Locus’ voice had never been the most compassionate. It had always been deep, blunt, monotone.    
“Nothing much… I mean, my leg stings like a bitch but, other then that…”   
A lie being spoken through gritted teeth. Locus’ hand hesitated at Felix’s jaw.   
“Lies.” Locus stated as Felix’s eyes met his. Locus saw something in them, something unexpected. And what was even more unexpected, was when Felix took Locus’ lingering hand and pressed his palm against his cheek. Felix leant into it, nuzzling Locus’ hand lightly. Maybe Felix was less sober then Locus had thought. Locus had narrowed his eyes in what was beyond confusion, but no cell in his body was beckoning him to pull away. In fact, they screamed for him to stay.    
  
So he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a little while since an update, my apologies for that. I've got a ot in the making at the moment, considering possibly writing a little Grimmons story. If you wanna talk RvB, my mess of a Tumblr is ImmortalError.


	6. One Hundred Questions, One Caught Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new contract in the works, Locus receives an unexpected call.

**_F E L I X_ **

  
Two weeks, three days, eight hours, twenty-four minutes and thirty-two seconds. That’s how long Felix had been in his apartment recovering. Had he recovered? _Somewhat_. Was Felix becoming bored by his own apartment? _Beyond comprehension._  
  
Locus and Siris had made an effort to visit every day, usually to do not much more then redress the wound or stand by the door with crossed arms and the solemnest of expressions. Was Felix regretting his decision to drink instead of listening to Locus? _In a sense._ Regretting wasn’t the word for it, more like feeling an unnatural embarrassment. Felix was never embarrassed, he always wholeheartedly supported every choice he made. Except for, maybe, the choice to let a buried emotion surface. He remembered nuzzling Locus’ palm perfectly, he just couldn’t remember why he had done it.   
  
He had been drunk, yes. He had been concussed, yes. That much was clear but which of the two was responsible for the torrential amount he had thrown up was not clear. Usually Felix appreciated throwing up. He hated the sickly feeling the grew in his stomach before it, after he felt cleaner. This time, he wasn’t feeling any cleaner. That sickly feeling was simmering. He couldn’t help but assume that maybe the sick feeling was from neither his drinking nor his hit to the head, more likely his leak of emotion.   
  
Had Felix mentioned it to Locus? _No_. Was he going to? _Hell no_. Nothing about how Locus was behaving told Felix that he even thought it was important. Or at least he hadn’t shown Felix in any way that he was thinking about it. Then again, Locus wouldn’t show that anyway. Was Felix overthinking it? _Yes_. Was Felix taking it way out of proportion into the realms of ridiculousness? _Hell yes._   
  
One day, about a week and a half into what felt like a life-sentence, Siris had lingered by the door more then he usually had. Locus was always the guard, Siris was a lot less strict. So, it had been odd seeing him almost tense.   
“You good, Siris?” Just after Felix asked the question, Siris sighed in fatigue.   
“Locus and I decided it time we told you that we’re planning another contract—“ Felix sat up quickly, Locus told him to keep quiet before he was even opening his mouth, “— and no, you’re not involved. Not this time. You skip this one.”   
Felix fell back on the couch, groaning in frustration.   
“Fuck the both of you!” Felix exclaimed, throwing his arms outwards as he stared at the ceiling.   
“We were thinking, maybe you help with the behind the scenes business. So that way, you’re not bored senseless.” Felix had sat back up, reaching his hands out to cup Siris’ face.   
“Thank you, Mace. You are my lifesaver. Any longer here and I would’ve stabbed my eyes out with the closest blunt object.” His words were beyond satire, but he did mean them. Holding Siris’ face didn’t have the same effect. His palm on Siris’ cheek shouldn’t have been much different to his cheek in Locus’ palm. But it was, incredibly so.   
  
Why did that bother Felix so much?  
  
Of course no answer to his question reached out to him. A mystery that would keep Felix guessing. He hated guessing. Take the shot, think later. Run the light, think later. Touch a person cheek and feel an overwhelming instability, think later. Why was he asking so many questions? What we’re the answers? And why, for the love of all that was good, couldn’t Felix figure it out?  
  
It was then, that Locus’ ringing phone awoke Felix from his whirlwind of unanswerable questions.   
“Who is it?” Siris inquired, tilting his head to see this screen. Locus frowned,  
“No caller ID.”   
“Well, answer it.”  
“On speaker. No secrets here, we’re partners.” Felix smirked, laying back against the couch. He didn’t care for the conversation in the slightest, he just liked using the term ‘partners’ to utilise a power he didn’t really have. The frown got stronger, Locus slid his thumb over the screen until it stopped ringing.   
“Locus.”   
Silence. Silence except for some breathing that Felix couldn’t find a word to describe it. Not coarse, no _... rusty?_  
“The right number. Fantastic.” Definitely rusty. Felix had never heard the voice in his life but by Siris’ widening eyes and Locus’ immediate glance told Felix that they did know the mystery man on the phone. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you gentlemen this fine morning.”   
“Not particularly. How can we help you?”   
Felix mouthed a ‘who is it’ to Siris who did not much more then hold his finger over his lips to tell Felix to be quiet. Felix naturally flipped him off immediately after.   
“I was wondering if yourself, Siris, and whomever it was I hadn’t met yet, would be interested in a job...?”   
  
It clicked. Ranier. Felix’s mouth dropped slightly in surprise. Ranier was calling them? They really were growing up in the criminal world.   
“Ranier.” Locus confirmed Felix’s assumption, “I wasn’t aware you had our contacts.”   
“I didn’t. You two boys have been on my mind. You left one hell of an impression. I saw that quarry. Three of you did that? Makes my men look in dire need of training. My offer stands if you’re willing to hear it out?”  
Locus stayed silent for a minute. His eyes stared dead at Siris, for any confirmation of how to approach it.   
“We’re willing.” Felix found doubt in Locus’ tone. There was a sense of deception lingering there. If they were planning another contract already, there wasn’t much chance that they would have enough time to work another. So why bother asking?  
“A friend of mine needs an ex-friend to disappear. I’d do it myself but, after seeing the quarry, I figure you boys are much more suited for the job...”  
“Currently we have a contract. We appreciate the notion, we are guns for hire however. Not mercenaries.” There was silence from the other end of the phone. Felix felt a flicker of anxiety, mirroring exactly what he felt when his call with Lozano had gone downhill. Fear that felt like acid.   
“I respect your decision. Just remember gentlemen, my eye is rarely caught.”  
A moment passed where Felix thought Ranier had hung up. That was, however, until he spoke up once more,   
  
“Just a quick note; you seem more like the mercenary types to me...”   
  
The call ended. The kind of quiet that flooded the room was the kind of quiet rarely experienced. A mixture of emotions across all ranges of the spectrum. Shock, confusion, disbelief, a sense of pride and a tinge of accomplishment. All eyes stared directly at the phone, as if it would offer anymore context.   
“Did we just... reject Marcus goddamn Ranier?!” Felix whispered, shock in his tone.   
“I believe so.” Locus frowned, his bottom lip between his teeth.   
“My concern is how he got our contact?” Siris wondered, a hand on his chin.   
“Who cares how he got it, what matters is he took the time too!” Felix would’ve jumped to his feet if his leg could hold him, “boys, this is what it feels like to peak! We’ve gotten our names out there!”  
“I’m dead-set sure that’s exactly what I didn’t want?” Siris shrugged, “I’ve got a family to look after, Gates-“  
“Codenames.”  
“-and this isn’t making it any easier to look after them. Plus, Locus is right, we aren’t criminals.”   
“Then why did you trade in Lozano’s cars?!” Felix sat up quickly,  
“Because we needed to pay for the mission. Cover costs. Find someone to take the credit for it.”  
“Wait you let Ranier take credit for Lozano’s death?! Why would you—“ Felix hadn’t known about the credit, it seemed moronic to let someone take credit for what was an impressive victor.   
“Why would we want it, Gates?!-“  
“Codenames.”  
“—I think you’re seriously mistaking why we visited Ranier?” Siris trailed off.   
  
That same silent unsettled anxiousness fell over the three of them. Felix bit his lip, confused at what had made him lash out like he had. Locus and Siris were right, they were fighting to make the city a better place. They had no need to ‘put their names out there’. The criminal world wasn’t theirs, so why had Felix become so wrapped up in the idea of it? Felix didn’t have the ability to apologise for it, even though he knew it would be best if he had. He shut his mouth, kept it shut, and didn’t speak his mind. That was difficult enough, never mind the mere notion of apologising. So instead, Felix changed the topic.   
“This contract... tell me all about it.”  
Although speculative, Siris and Locus told him.   
  
The police had had their eyes on a young man by the name of Zachariah Morton. Morton was suspected of embezzlement and had a bounty of one million credits. There were contracts worth more, as they always were, however Siris has suggested keeping themselves _‘out of the spotlight’_. Was that code for ‘boring as hell’? Yes, Felix wholeheartedly believed so. He wanted to point out that keeping ‘out of the spotlight’ may just call more attention and seem suspicious but he knew he would be shot down. He didn’t want to push any further, not now that he was being allowed to participate in the contract.

The contract required ‘looking into’, meaning the police themselves hadn’t found any real way to secure enough evidence for a warrant or an arrest but were confident enough in their suspicions to put the contract out to guns-for-hire. Was it a dirty cop thing to do? Yes, it certainly was. But there were enough dirty cops out there to out people like Morton in the spotlight. Would the police get their asses kicked if their bosses found it? Without doubt, careers would be ruined. Siris had chosen the contract for that reason, the quicker Morton slipped up and got himself arrested, the less likely good city workers would be caught out. Siris was always looking out for others, a nice notion that bored Felix out of his mind.

Locus and Siris had most of the details of their work sorted. They would go undercover, as simple everyday business owners, and try to secure some sort of job with Morton. The details seemed endless and, unfortunately, overwhelmingly boring. They had fake identities and backstories, all wound up in a plan that Felix had minimal part in. No weapons, no fights, no real stance in all of it. It would be difficult for Felix to fake being an investor while limping from a gunshot wound. Suspicion was best left avoided. Although the idea of the contract was semi-interesting and Felix was intrigued by the word ‘undercover‘, he couldn’t help his mind slip back to Ranier’s call. An assassination? Now that, was cause for excitement.   
  
When Felix went to see Locus and Siris from his apartment, his leg gave out on him. Too much pressure too suddenly and without much warning, a shockwave sent him to the floor. Just before he hit the ground, Locus caught him. Felix was always amazed at how quick Locus’ reflexes could be. An outstretched arm had caught his waist and pulled him back to his feet. As he was pulled, his leg buckled again. Hissing in pain, Felix buried his face into Locus’ shoulder. His hands desperately grasped at Locus’s waist to try and hold himself still. And as he did so, _he slipped Locus’ phone from his pocket._


	7. Fraud Beyond Reasonable Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus and Siris go undercover in an attempt to find enough evidence to put Morton behind bars.

**_S I R I S_ **

  
Zachariah Morton. The name just screamed fraud. An entirely subjective opinion but Siris believed it screamed fraud. Siris liked to think that he was unbiased and that he believed in the legal practice of innocent until proven guilty. But one look at Morton’s profile and a single word called out to him. Fraud.   
  
Fraud beyond reasonable doubt.   
  
Locus and Siris has found out that Morton was recently recruited by a charity company. Prior to that, he’d been working for a television channel that had gained fame of sorts. It was known for being almost too upbeat. There was minimal coverage of the recent war crimes and close to no acknowledgement of the Great War. It was simply participation trophies left and right, faked optimism in a city built from pessimism.   
  
Morton had always been good at keeping himself out of the police’s sight. A nearly perfect record, one parking ticket and not much more to his name. He liked to keep himself ‘out of the spotlight’. His work at the television station had been purely behind the scenes, he wasn’t a public figure. He worked as an organiser, a scheduler and, more importantly, he worked on the payroll. The station had done a range of programs and features on the charity foundation that he had recently moved to. That move had placed him in the spotlight, but not in the way a spotlight is used when tracking a criminal. More so that he was being praised and admired for his move from a well known television station to a charity foundation. So selfless, so considerate, so _bullshit_ .   
  
Getting anywhere near him was damn near impossible, he was always working offsite. So, Siris had a good idea. Although it seemed significantly less ‘good’ once Felix became involved. He had been assigned to making the fake IDs and had clearly had too much fun making them. Siris’ read “Chris Sabet” and Locus’ has read “Gray Gary”. Why they had allowed Felix to make the IDs was beyond them. Felix had even had the audacity to smirk and tell Locus “Codenames only”. They needed the IDs to gain access to the television station. There was a slim chance that Morton hadn’t erased his files. If they had that luck, there was a reasonable chance that they could put Morton behind bars. Locus and Siris were going undercover and Felix was going to be on recon. And by recon, Locus had been sure to specify Felix would continue to remain under house arrest while doing so.   
  
It was a dreary Monday morning when the contract began. The city smog hung in the air as thick as clouds and, ironically, the clouds hung in the air as thick as smog. It was 7:49am, the city was bustling with morning traffic. Be it on the sidewalk or the roads, there was outcries of frustration from both. No one was keeping their temper. Not on a day of such misery. Locus and Siris stood outside the tv station office. A huge looming gray building with windows placed in a checkered pattern decorating its front. Cars that zoomed past them threw up water from the road, misting over them lightly. Locus frowned at every occurrence, droplets landing on the glasses perched on his nose. They were large frames for the sole reason of hiding a camera. A camera which was transferring footage over to Felix who, they assumed, was probably ignoring the footage entirely and was, instead, eating or doing something of less importance.   
  
**“Alright boys. Chris. Gray. I’m good when you are.” Felix patched himself through.** ****  
“I cannot believe he made your ID ‘ _Gray Gary_ ’... Felix, why..?”   
**“I’m not sure if you’ve ever looked into Locus’ eyes Siris but, I can tell you, they’re the most gorgeous shade of** **_bland_ ** **gray. Like concrete. Or clouds on the most miserable day.”** ****  
Siris looked over to Locus whose eyes flickered up to the clouds above. Rain trickled on the lenses of his glasses.  
“And why Gary?”   
**“Because that shit is funny man.”** ****  
“Your definition of comedy is astounding...” Locus clenched his jaw as he responded.  
**“Well thank you Locus, I like to think I’m astounding...”** ****  
“Did I say astounding? I meant insufferable.”  
**“Ooo was that some sarcasm I hear? You should try that more often Ortez, I like it—“** ****  
“Code names.”  
Siris couldn’t help but smile to himself. The two of them were quite a pair. How they managed to go even an hour without physically assaulting each other was beyond Siris.   
“Alright. Let’s get this started.”   
Siris adjusted his tie as he turned back towards the door. One of Felix’s conditions was that Siris would have to wear a suit. He had worked recon on the Lazano case so it was only fair that if he was to be doing the groundwork that he would look to part. Felix had also demanded his tie be purple.   
  
For some reason Felix had written a ‘Terms and Conditions’ list which documented a range of requirements Locus and Siris had to fulfil in return for Felix’s assistance. He’d handed the crumpled sticky note to Siris while Locus had been checking his wound. Felix insisted all requirements must be followed or he would have no part in the contract. Siris hadn’t bothered reminding him that they were allowing him participation, instead he had read the note.

  
    _1._ _I get to be in call with you during the mission._   
_2._ _Siris has to wear a suit_   
_3._ _Siris also has to wear a purple tie._   
_4._ _You’re both my bitches, not the other way around._ _  
_ _5._ I will no longer be under house arrest.

 

Siris had simply sighed and told him that if he took off number five then he had a deal. Felix had accepted that deal and so, Siris’s tie was a deep shade of purple. Felix had wanted more of a vibrant colour but Siris rebutted with the point that Felix had been too unspecific in the terms to fight for it. Felix took it as a small victory and moved on.   
  
Although, Siris was imagining that Felix wasn’t feeling as victorious back at his apartment listening to Locus try to lie his way through the doors of a television station. That wasn’t entirely accurate, they had made it through one set of door before a receptionist asked their business. A young woman sat behind the desk, her dark hair tied up in a bun so tightly that looked like not a single strand was free. Her smile was tone was polite,  
“I just need to patch you in to whomever is taking you around.” Her fake nails clicked irritatingly at keys as she typed.   
“Sorry, I believe there is a misunderstanding. We’re two of the Channel’s auditors, we’re here on request.”  
“Oh, my mistake, I’m really sorry. I do actually have that note here on my desktop, I’m an idiot.” Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment,  
“No need to be sorry.” Siris knew how to fake a friendly smile and voice. He, out of the three of them, was the best at facades. A point proven when the only thing that Felix said was that she ‘sounded cute’.   
“It’s a strange time for auditors to be coming around... it’s because of the change in staff, isn’t it?”   
“Just need to look at the books, nothing more. Wasn’t even aware in a change in staff.” A lie but a smart lie. An opener to another conversation,   
“Zac will be missed, he was a genuine guy. Good at his job so we never had any issues with him.”  
“Always a shame when you lose... good people.”   
“Certainly is...” she sighed before piping up again, “please continue through, the man at the elevator will just check your IDs.”   
  
The man at the elevator did check their IDs quickly. He looked over Siris’ without a second glance. He did pause briefly at Locus’ at hmph a laugh at it.   
“Something funny?” Locus hissed low enough for the guard to flinch slightly.   
“Your name is just an amazing coincidence.” He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.   
“ **That man has an astounding sense of humour.”** Felix was cackling at the other end of the line. Eventually the man had decided the IDs were fine and he was escorting them to the doors in mere minutes. By the time the elevator door closed, Locus couldn’t do much else then sigh.   
“It would have been easier to convince them I was a boss if I had a regular name.”  
Felix begun to laugh enough to cough and Siris himself had done his best to muster his laugh.   
**“Ohhh come on Gary, don’t be so gray.”** **  
** Siris couldn’t help but chuckle lightly.   
“Felix. I’m going to break you.” **  
****“Break the button to level 12 instead, that’s where you’re headed.”**  
  
As silence flooded the elevator Siris couldn’t help but look up to the security camera and radio which was softly playing the most irritating of tunes. He thought about the Enteka block’s radio, shot into fragments. Almost on queue, Felix mumbled through the earpieces,  
**“I wanna shoot that fuckin’ speaker.”** **  
** Even that put the smallest of smiles on Locus’ face. You would have to have a microscope to have seen it but it was there. By the time the doors had opened, Felix had managed to find a layout of the building and knew exactly where the financial department was. There was a lot of left and right turns through offices. They past numerous bored workers tapping away at their keyboards, eyes vacant as they stared at their monitors. Once they did reach the office it became obvious that there was a high probability that no one could ever notice money being embezzled due to the state of the financial department. There we’re stacks of papers and books left unorganised.   
  
There was a computer with three monitors buried beneath the papers. Siris had found the password which was scribbled on a poorly hidden sticky note stuck to the back of a computer monitor. He’d scoffed at finding it so simply, then wondered if anyone else who wasn’t supposed to had managed to log in. Locus had taken over from there and Siris was thankful that Locus knew exactly what to look for. Siris took the place of a guard, standing nonchalantly by the door and occasionally talking with the utmost of seriousness. He watched as Locus tirelessly typed in number and codes, pulled up spreadsheets and websites, looked at outputs and transfers between accounts. Parts of Siris wanted to know exactly what he was looking for but at the rate he was looking, there was no chance Siris could keep up. Then Siris began to wonder at what point did Locus begin to learn about what to look for in embezzlement cases. Siris had picked the case for its low equipment cost and to try and stray away from dangerous situations but it was by mere coincidence that Locus knew _exactly_ what to look for.   
  
**“You know I heard it’s good for group moral to hand out compliments every once in a while.”** Felix patched himself through again, **“So uh, Siris you’re doing great and Locus, you should wear glasses more often. They really bring out the ‘psychopath’ in your eyes.”** **  
** “Felix, shut up.” Siris muttered,  
**“Well... I feel incredibly excluded.”** **  
** “Felix, shut up.” Locus concurred.   
“Why did we think having Felix on comms was a good idea?”  
“I don’t know. What I do know, is that I regret it immensely.” Locus continued to stare at the monitor as pages flickered past.  
**“You could always have me, you know, not on comms. And instead, out of my fucking apartment?!”** **  
** “Oh, right. That’s why. You found much Locus?”  
“I believe so, it looks like Morton potentially had some offshore accounts.... he was possibly involved tax evasion as well. I also believe my progress is being monitored. I’ll copy it over and we can review it at another time—“  
**“Oh fuck!... Fellas, I’m sorry to cut this short but I gotta go. My leg’s bleeding again...”** **  
** “Copy that, Felix.” Siris was concerned but he was relieved that Felix was considering the wound. “Take care of yourself.”  
**“You hang up first.”** **  
** “Okay. Signing off.”  
**“You son of a b—“** **  
**  
The files transferred quickly and Siris had photographed some of the loose paperwork. Siris was keen to leave the station, the employees seemed fixated on their work but Siris couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. They passed the man who checked their IDs who nodded and just as he saw Locus, the corner of his lip upturned into a small smile. The lady at the desk wished them a good day and to take care. As they stood by the street corner waiting for a cab, Locus felt an absence. His phone wasn’t on him and when he asked Siris, he’d shrugged and said that maybe Locus had put it down somewhere and forgotten about it. Although Siris knew the risk of that was beyond minimal.  Locus was exact in the location of his phone. It had all his contacts and his exchanges. He’d set it up to wipe all messages every two weeks. Locus was exact. Therefore, Locus did not misplace something as crucial as his phone.  
  
The sinking feeling in Siris’ stomach screamed something else entirely.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having heaps of fun writing this story, keen to get it on a roll :)


	8. It's Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt is decided on, phones are found, threats are made, danger lurks and songs are sung in the shower.

**_L O C U S_ **

  
Locus’ preference was silence in any given situation. He enjoyed the quiet, he liked to be swamped by nothingness. There was no stress, no demand for his attention and, more importantly, no social interaction in silence. Locus didn’t like people. It didn’t get any simpler then that.    
  
Locus had gone with Siris to his house straight from the station. Megan had left that morning for a business trip and would be away for a few days. The silence that Siris’ house provided was exactly what the both of them needed to look through the evidence they’d collected. The house itself felt out of place. It seemed as if it were a show home, it barely looked lived in. The front of the house was obscured entirely by tall hedges which were perfectly shaped. The house itself was beautiful shades of grey and pale lilac. The floor was made from glossy wooden floorboards. There were little to no pictures hanging up around the house, just a few of Siris with Megan on what looked like holidays. The only thing Locus took away from the photos was that they both looked happy.    
  
Locus and Siris set up a laptop and some paper on the kitchen table. A grand ebony table with a matching set of eight chairs. The furthest wall was a bookshelf lined with books of gorgeous shades. To Locus’ dismay, Siris house was not  _ entirely  _ empty.  _ Megan owned a cat _ . A tiny orange and coal-black tortoiseshell kitten with green eyes and a meow so high pitched that it could not be ignored. Megan had named the little cat Apples because she had found him stuck in an apple tree. Apparently man who was passing by had been convinced it would be best to call the fire department. Instead, Megan had climbed the tree herself to rescue the little ball of fur.    
  
Even more to Locus’ dismay was that the cat seemed to enjoy his company. He’d brush up against his leg when he least expected it or jump up onto the table and sit directly on the pages that Locus was reading. He wouldn’t budge until Locus acknowledged him. Siris felt an odd swell of happiness when Locus finally caved in and started petting the kitten. Such a strongly built man patting the smallest ball of fluff was something Siris had never expected to witness. He was glad he had. Studying the transfers proved to be useful. Morton had certainly been embezzling money right under the station’s nose. There was the involvements of offshore bank accounts which had proven to be tax fraud. Locus and Siris knew, beyond reasonable doubt, that Morton was guilty.   
  
With Morton’s guilt proven, Locus had another problem to deal with. His misplaced phone. The quiet of Siris’ house had given Locus the room to think about his approach. So, when Locus has visited Felix’s apartment, despite it being the middle of the night, he wasn’t too bothered to find that Felix was in the shower. He had no problem waiting. He was bothered, however, once he realised Felix liked to sing in the shower. Locus had been sitting in a chair in the corner of the room when Felix had first started singing. It had been fine there, peaceful. The room was dark, the rain on the roof had been heavy and the lights from the city danced in the raindrops which raced one another down the window pane. Locus had been watching them, trying to piece together which lights were reflecting off which drop. A nearly impossible task but it kept him preoccupied for the time being. Quietly but quickly, a rhythm of a song begun to blare. The bass of the song thumped through the apartment. Locus watched as the liquid in the bottles in Felix’s cupboard began to lap at the glass as song blared. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, Felix started singing. Although in saying that Locus could only hear very few lines. Popular music made minimal sense to Locus, no part of him was going to even try to understand it. 

  
  


_ Heart been so cold that I don't feel at all.  _ _   
_ _ Scarred up inside so I built all these walls.  _

  
  


It was such a Felix thing to do to install what would have to be  an industrial sized speaker in his bathroom. The only thing Locus could really consider was how unfortunate Felix’s neighbours were and just how long it would be before said neighbours came to the door to complain. Almost on queue, there was a knock. Locus debating simply sitting and doing nothing. His other option was to open the door and deal with whoever it was. Which he ultimately decided would be best. 

  
  


_ I make my rules and my own plans, _ _   
_ _ I got no room for no man, that's my way. _

  
  


The man who stood outside was quite clearly still half asleep. He seemed dazed and unresponsive. As if he was a few seconds behind everything else. He blinked his weary eyes at Locus, taking a few seconds for his eyes to drift over him before registering that he wasn’t the apartment owner.    
“Who... who the fuck are you?” He rubbed his eyes, dark circles ringing them, “his security or his boyfriend?”   
Locus pressed his lips together tightly and took a breath,   
“Forced acquaintance.”   
“Well. Same. And in all honesty... three in the morning is the worst time to listen to shitty music. Get him to shut up or I’ll shut him up myself.”   
“You could try. He’s stubborn.”    
“Oh I’m painfully aware. You don’t have to deal with him on the daily.” The man seemed oblivious as Locus narrowed his eyes. He seemed to wake up in realisation, “unless... you do? In which case I pity you. Also let him know some guy came around looking for him. Lean, neck tattoo, didn’t give his name but he was a fan of the colour maroon.”    
_ Ranier _ . Locus bit his lip, Felix had really done it this time.    
“Did this man ask for him specifically?!” Locus did his best to calm his temper.    
“No, just hung around the foyer asking for the owner of that black van looking thing out the front. It’s his, yeah?”   
“Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll let him know.”    
The man looked like he had more to say. He ran a hand through his long hair, opened his mouth as if to talk, then froze. Instead he sighed and hung his head low,   
“I pity you...” he mumbled, “you’d have to be  _ crazy  _ to stick around.”   
Gritting his teeth Locus closed the door and returned to his seat. Locus had simply shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, silently hoping Felix didn’t take showers that took any longer then five minutes. Locus was a trainer killer but he doubted he would survive anymore then ten minutes listening to Felix’s singing. To Locus’ complete surprise, Felix wasn’t half bad. There were high notes missed but from what Locus could tell, Felix was trying to impersonate a woman whose vocal cords were somewhat higher in pitch then that of his own. 

  
  


_ I've been chased.  _ _   
_ _ Maybe I just knew I had to wait for you.  _

  
  


Locus had been thinking about a prior night somewhat often. The night of the bar incident. It wasn’t the scene they caused or the blood they left on the bar floor that was causing such contemplation. It was Felix leaning into his palm that was keeping him preoccupied. In that moment Felix had been more genuine then he had ever seemingly been. It had left an odd sensation in his hand.    
_ Curious _ .    
A little rattling caught Locus’ attention enough to steal his thoughts away from the shaking sound waves. A phone. Felix’s phone. It jumped up and down with a plastic clacking noise on the table. Interesting, Locus thought. An eye for an eye, so they said. A phone for a phone. If Locus’ suspicions were correct, Felix would have some outgoing calls to a certain number. In checking he found one outgoing call to an unknown and two outgoing to someone named Miller. Locus went through his messages. In order were the names Miller, Mace, An Actual Asshat, and a range of people Locus wouldn’t even begin to try to identify. He frowned at An Actual Asshat, Felix was sometimes insufferably immature. Locus couldn’t help but wonder who Miller was, it certainly hadn’t been who he was looking for. 

  
  


_ Draw a knife and carve a little space for you.  _ _   
_ _ It feels nice. _

  
  
God know where the blade came from but it came hurtling towards Locus in a split second. The blade whizzed past his ear, barely missing it, and heard its impact. Looking over his shoulder, he could see it firmly lodged into the wall parallel to where Locus’ head was. It wasn’t a perfect hit, the blade was angled too much.   
“You need to counter the rotation slightly.” Locus said blankly, turning back to meet Felix’s eyes. “You didn’t bend your wrist enough.”   
A few moments of silence passed. Felix stared at Locus, unblinking. He was by the doorway to the bathroom, a little crack of light flooded the apartment.   
“You asshole! What the fuck are you doing in my apartment at 3a-fucking-m?!”   
Locus looked over him briefly, a towel firmly tied around his waist. It was a miracle Felix could throw the punches he did, Locus often forgot how small of a frame he had. Collarbones and shoulder blades stuck out as defining features, casting shadows of their own. Felix had a waist tinier then the amount of patience Locus had for his bullshit. His pale skin was littered with more bruises than Locus had expected to see and scars he didn’t even know Felix had. If it weren’t for the lean muscle, Felix really would’ve looked like a stick. Easy to snap.   
“How long have you been here for?! Actually. Don’t fucking answer that. _I don’t want to know_.” Felix threw his arms up in anger, not moving very far from the doorway.   
“I didn’t know you could sing—“ Locus barely finished his sentence before Felix retaliated, _livid_.   
“You shut your damn motherfucking mouth. As far as you’re concerned, that didn’t happen. Now. Please. Tell me. What in the everloving goddamn fuck are you doing here you son of a bitch?!”   
  
Locus stood, silent. He tore the knife from the wall and took a few moments to stare Felix down. He approached, slowly, giving Felix plenty of time to react. Which he didn’t. He stood perfectly still, watching Locus get closer. He seemed to tower over the smaller man.   
“I misplaced my phone...”   
“That’s really irresponsible Locus, I expect more from you—“ rambling was Felix’s strong suit and Locus had no intention of enabling it.   
“Only I didn’t misplace it, did I? You took it from my pocket.” Silence, a confession. “You returned Ranier’s call.”   
“I can see what this looks lik—“  
“What is it that Siris said? Partners communicate. You, Felix, have done the opposite.”  
“Listen! The contract suited a friend of mine whose name is so similar to Morton’s that I thought of him. _Zachary Miller._ We intercepted each other once on contract. I was there to arrest a man wanted for jewellery theft and just as I reached him, so did Miller. Turns out Miller was there to pickpocket a particular piece of jewellery. He let me finish the contract, I let him keep the flash ring and told the authorities it was already gone. He bought me a drink and we laughed it off. I never saw him after, he disappeared into the criminal world. I thought of him when I heard Ranier’s contract, so I set it up. Nothing more.”  
Despite the obviousness that was the contact between both Ranier and Miller, Locus felt there was a piece missing.   
“Of course there was more, Felix.” He hissed the name, “Ranier came here. Looking for you.”  
Then there was alarm in Felix’s eyes, a true brief fragment of panic that died out almost instantaneously.   
“Here...?” Felix whispered,  
“Yes. Looking for the owner of the ‘van-thing’. Do you understand the severity of this? We went to make a deal with Ranier, not to recruit for him!”   
The only thing that broke up their argument was the buzzing of Locus’ phone which he snatched from Felix and answered.  
“Locus! Christ, thank god you’ve found your phone!” It was Siris.   
“It wasn’t lost, _merely borrowed against my will._ ”   
“What? Actually. Never mind it’s not important right now. Locus we have an issue... _Morton is gone.”_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we meet Zachary Miller, one of the Space Pirates in the Chorus Trilogy.   
> The song Felix was listening to is It's Strange by Louis The Child (feat. K.Flay).


	9. Wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morton is followed and training is failed.

**_F E L I X_ **

Siris had been right about one thing, Morton was certainly gone. Somehow, someone had got a message to Morton that simply said the word run. So he had. Only he hadn’t run, no, he’d booked a plane ticket to the other side of the world. Siris had been checking the transactions when he came across the payment for the ticket. Just one ticket out of the country. By the time Locus had picked up the phone, Siris was already on his way to the airport.    
  
Locus had begrudgingly agreed to drive Felix to the airport. It was just under two hours out of town, coincidentally the same amount of time until Morton’s flight left. They all knew that once that plane had taken off, there was no chance Morton was getting the justice he deserved. Locus stared down every red light that stopped them. He never once got restless or irritable, his face didn’t give anything away. There was something about his calmness that pushed Felix’s buttons. How was it that he felt every painful second passing by but Locus was seemingly level headed? Locus’ lack of emotion angered Felix even more. Instead of saying much Felix had turned the radio up and sunk into the passenger seat. His eyes drifted to the world around him. The scene before him occasionally illuminated with vivid red lights and the reflections of other cars. Lights eventually begun to flicker on in houses, the roads began to fill with movement. They would get caught in traffic soon. They inevitably did become just one of many cars waiting for seemingly nothing. Locus’ attitude continued to remain unmovable and it was Felix cursing down any car that beeped.    
“Alright, alright, we get the message you impatient fuck!” He hissed, “you want to move, we understand, we all want to move!!”   
“I would appreciate it if you stopped yelling.”   
“I take it back, everyone wants to move but you. Why are you so goddamn calm about this?!”    
Locus glanced sideways at him.    
“Because being angry about the traffic isn’t going to move it.”   
As if the universe heard his words, the cars began to move.    
“False, Locus. Fucking false.”    
This time, it was Locus who turned the radio up.    
  
By the time the airport was in view, Felix was restless. Siris had arrived before they had but not by long. Locus managed to park close to the main entrance and just before he could get out of the car, Felix’s hand shot out to grab his upper arm.    
“Should I leave this here?” In his other hand, a knife. Locus blinked at him before finding the right words,   
“Yes. Why do you—“   
“The real question is, why do you not?” He put the blade in the glove box and jumped from the car before Locus could even speak. “Hurry it up, Siris is already here!”   
  
Siris had arrived mere moments before they had. He was holding the door to the entrance open beckoning them,   
“Flight 24110. Gate 11!” He’d told them as they passed by and joined the line to pass through to the waiting areas.    
“We don’t have time for this...” Siris had muttered, seemingly impatient, “We have nothing on us, why do we need to wait for these damn metal detectors?”    
“Ahh, that’s why I didn’t bring my knife.” Felix smirked,    
“You didn’t... what?” Siris asked,   
“Don’t ask.” Locus stopped the conversation before it even begun.    
  
They passed through the metal dectors and headed towards Gate 11 at the fastest pace possible without drawing too much attention. They did blend into the crowd somewhat, as people were also bolting to their flights. Every few seconds a new person was running past them faster then could be expected. They approached the corner where Gate 11 was located with anxiousness.    
  
The three of them turned the corner just in time to watch the plane fly further into the sunrise of purple and blue watercolour.    
“Wow... well this is fucking cliche.”    
It was beyond just that. Cliche was an understatement. Felix had followed that up with,   
“If I hadn’t stopped the elevator in the Enteka blocks to shoot that motherfucking speaker then I would be a few minutes earlier in my life and we wouldn’t have missed that plane...”    
“Once again, elevator music is the fall down of humanity.” Siris hissed under his breath. Angry but accepting.    
  
Eventually Siris gave up on searching for Morton, just as Locus had given up on Felix telling the truth about his contact with Ranier. Locus hadn’t heard from Ranier since they had denied his contact. Hope said that Ranier had received the message about their unwillingness to join the criminal world, realism said that there was more to it. Especially considering Felix had recruited someone for him. More likely then not, Ranier was going to try and involve them. But, for the past week, it had been quiet. Felix was healed enough to no longer be under house arrest. Something he celebrated by dragging Locus and Siris to the exact bar that Locus had found him in. That night they had agreed that they would put themselves back in the fight. That there were too many bad people in the city to go unaccounted for.    
  
The following night Felix had returned to that same bar but in different company. The smallest sliver of guilt streamed through his veins as he met Miller by the door. He’d held his hand out with a grin which Miller had taken and pulled him close enough to hit his back as he exclaimed,   
“It’s great to see you! It’s been too long since I’ve been in good company...” before whispering in his ear, “drinks are on me, I owe you after the set up.”   
Felix had smirked,   
“Be my guest! You’ll have to tell me all about it...”   
Which he had. Miller was a stickler for details and the way which he recounted the contract was as clear as glass. It had been a simple hit and run; the target was gone and the plans were untraceable. Felix lent into the story a bit too much,   
“Ranier is an interesting man. He knows his business and he knows it damn well. But your partners, Locus and Siris, they left an impression on him. You should take up a contract with him, the three of you should. You won’t regret it.”   
Felix doubted that he would regret it. If anything, he had regretted not taking the contract himself. He had promised to get back into the fight; Ranier seemed like the best way to do that. And so, in the early hours of that morning, Felix had promised to initiate further contact. Although the guilt in his veins had been washed away by spirits, he had meant that promise.    
  
He may not have been under house arrest but he certainly wasn’t in Locus and Siris’ company any less then usual. Locus had woken him up that morning, albeit slightly hungover, and told him that they were going to train. If they were going to get back into the fight, Felix needed to be certain his leg wouldn’t slow him down. They had a training spot that they had used so often it had become tradition. It was an old UNSC training ground turned junk yard which they had used during their own training before the Great War. It had been where they first met and the nostalgic feeling that swept over them whenever they used it was one of competitiveness. It was a reminder of how far they had come. Enemies to allies.    
  
It was the first time Siris had been to the training spot. He was unfamiliar with the area so the wrecked cars and scattered junk caused him to raise an eyebrow.    
“What is this place?”   
Locus and Felix had exchanged a look,   
“The worlds shittiest and most rundown second home.” Felix had shrugged, which didn’t answer Siris’ question but instead opened new ones.   
“We trained here before the Great War.” Locus did his best to ignore Felix,   
“You trained... here? In this wasteland?”    
“Wasteland? My god you’re dramatic.” Felix sneered.    
“Admittedly it wasn’t nearly as abandoned at the time...” Locus observed the land for what it had become. A barren mess. The clear area itself was made of uneven concrete and faded white lines. Weaving in and out of the cracks in the concrete were little budding flowers. Gorgeous, tiny things. They were stunning shades of vivid oranges and fluorescent yellows. Locus knew they were weeds, the same species would often cluster around the corner of his street. They were a reminder that even the most beautiful things could be invasive.    
  
“Okay, let’s do some training...” Siris seemed adamant about getting down to business. No interest in nostalgia. Locus realised that training would be good for Siris. He had been fixated on the failure of their last contract and Morton’s disappearance, Locus wanted Siris to have a distraction of sorts. Even if it was in a wasteland. Felix’s stance had changed after his injury. He placed his feet a lot closer together then he usually would have. He was relying much more on his other leg for balance and support. The quality of his shots were changing because of that, so occasionally Siris and Locus had to interject to readjust him. Felix was fine with Siris directing him and making demands. However, Felix struggled a lot when Locus tried to change him. The closeness felt intimidating and the feeling of his hand against Locus’ cheek returned to him. Felix felt flustered, not by the contact but by not having shown any emotion prior to it. Their relationship had always been one of hate, one of competitiveness, one driven by selfish needs. But for the first time the term ‘partners’ was beginning to mean something more. Felix wasn’t sure just what to do with that.    
  
There was only two things that Felix knew for sure. Firstly, he was part of a team and that came with responsibility. Secondly, he couldn’t get Ranier’s proposition out of his head.    
  
Felix had been thinking about Ranier from a much more pragmatic perspective. Siris, on the other hand, saw the world in a much more black and white sense. Good and bad barely crossed paths. Something was either solely of good intention or solely of bad intention. He didn’t consider the complexities of the bad, he simply said that it should not ever need to be bad. In all truth, Locus could be sitting anywhere on the spectrum of insanity. Felix could never tell what was going on his head. And so, Felix liked thinking pragmatically. The benefits outweighed the doubts. The pay outweighed the risks. Ranier’s contracts could do them good. That, he was sure of.    
  
But with pragmatic thinking came a disassociation with his current reality. He was much too focused on the thoughts of Miller and Ranier to pay his full attention to his training. The shots he was taking were hitting the target but not with the precision he was accustomed too. His lack of attention caught up to him once they begun hand-to-hand combat. Siris was always tricky with hand-to-hand. His mechanical leg made for sudden, sharp movements. Rarely could they be predicted and more often then not Felix and Locus would make an unspoken truce to best him. With Felix’s leg the three of them decided that one against one would be safer. Since Siris had an advantage with his leg, Felix and Locus were pitted against each other.    
“This is hardly fair, you’re like three times my size.”    
“It’s never stopped you before Felix, why the hesitation?” Siris crossed his arms, “is the wound worse then you’re telling us?”    
“I, no, I just...” Felix stammered, “have you seen how different we are?”   
“Yeah, Locus is well built, whereas you have tiny legs that could break like...” Siris searches for the right comparison, “...like dried spaghetti.”    
Felix guessed he hadn’t found the right comparison.    
“Siris what the fuck?” Felix threw his arms up in the air.    
“It was the only thing I could think of, man.” He shrugged, “anyway, similes aside, let’s get going. First round is one on one. On my mark.”    
Siris held his hand outstretched. Both Felix and Locus took similar stances. Although they both held their fists by their faces, one leg in front of the other. Locus was much more open then Felix, who kept his hands in close proximity. As he threw his hand down, Siris yelled,   
“Mark!”   
  
Locus had Felix pinned in a mere second. Sitting over him with his knees pressed into the sharp rocks on the ground either side of his waist. All three of them had been taken aback that it had worked. The move was a common one to begin trainings but rarely, if ever, did it work. Felix was certainly there in body but not in mind. Locus leant forward and hissed,   
“Wake up, Felix.” To which Felix quickly looped his hands around Locus’ neck and pulled him closer. Their noses brushed as Felix whispered,   
“Go fuck yourself, Ortez.” And just before Locus could remind him about codenames, Felix caught a good grip on his leg and managed to flip him to his back. He hit the ground with a thud and before he could move, Felix was over him,   
“Wow. Taken down first try. You fail to impress me, Locus.” The shit-eating grin on his face was enough to motivate Locus to other means. Talking.    
“At what point did you wrongly assume that I try to impress you?”    
“Only since Basic!“ Felix smirked,    
“You remember Basic differently...” Locus nearly sneered, “all I remember was your pathetic attempts to best me.”   
“Pathetic?! Wow, you clearly don’t remember just how tight that competition was?! I’m talking like neck-on-neck...” Felix’s smirk only grew wider, “d’ya know what else I remember from Basic? The first time we met, and I was convinced you were one of those suits of armour run by computer programs, you know, the ones with no real personality...”   
Locus could remember that day and he could remember it to the point where he knew that was a lie. He knew Felix was trying to rile him. The smallest of smirks pulled at Locus’ lips,   
“The fuck do you have to smile about...?”   
The second he had asked the question, it was answered. Locus slid his hand out from Felix’s grasp and grabbed him by the throat. He pushed him upwards enough to move he leg out from under Felix, place a foot on his chest, and push his foot quick enough to throw Felix. He crashed to the ground, rolling over the sharpest of stones, skidding to a halt by the fence. Locus was standing over him in an instant, foot pressed against his neck,   
“Your monologuing... it will be your downfall...”    
Felix screwed his face up in annoyance before admitting to defeat and punching Locus’ leg,   
“Yeah, okay, you got me. Now, get off me you ass!” He spat at Locus who slowly withdrew his foot from the flesh of Felix’s neck.    
  
The dirt that was embedded in streaks on Felix’s grey shirt barley disappeared when he brushed at it. Little grazes lined his bare arms and the tiniest of slits dotted the fabric of the exercise shirt. They were few damages that were joining many. It was Felix’s favourite training shirt; grey with orange stitching and foldings. The four orange foldings were on the bottom of each sleeve, the collar and one at the hem of the shirt. The shirt had been worn to death, so he was used to sewing it back up.    
  
Felix had bought Locus a very similar one, although it’s stitching was green in colour. Locus didn’t wear it often, if ever, and usually wore all black when training. Too much colour was distracting, he believed. Felix had tried to find Siris a purple version of the shirt but he couldn’t find any so he had vowed to learn to sew properly. A vow he was hoping Siris would slowly forget, considering Felix’s dodgy patch work. It was an indicator that Felix never was and was never going to be a seamstress.    
  
Before another round could be started, Siris’ phone rang. He frowned at the screen before answering. He didn’t say hello but instead was intent on listening,   
“Y-yes, that’s me.” The frown seemed unmovable, “oh god...”   
Siris’ tone was laced with anxiety. The fear in his eyes was so unfamiliar to Locus and Felix that they both froze to look at him. There was something beyond wrong. When the call ended, he spent seconds in the dead of silence. Felix and Locus watched as Siris struggled to find the words to say until eventually they came to him,   
“My wife has been in a car crash. She’s been in taken to the hospital now, I- I gotta go.”    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a conversation with a good friend who said she didn't believe Felix looks how he does in season 14's Club, Call and Consequences because he, and I quote, 'would break those legs like dried spaghetti' and I found it so funny I had to include it.


	10. No Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megan is treated at the hospital, Felix and Locus talk, Siris momentarily forgets himself.

**_S I R I S_ **

  
The beeping of machines was beginning to get on Siris’ nerves. He was stood by a bedside in what felt like the world's coldest room. It’s curtains felt suffocating, it’s ceiling felt too low and it smelt of cleaning chemicals. None of that was nearly as irritating as the beeping. It was constant, over and over, without a minute change in pitch. It was endlessly repetitive and soul numbingly irritating. 

Siris  _ watched  _ Megan. Watch didn’t mean observe, watch meant analyse. Every little move she made was noted; the rate of her breathing, the flicker of her eyelids,  _ everything _ . The lights were left at a low level, making her skin look a sickly blue in the evening light. Siris held the sidebar of the hospital bed, he feared if he were to hold Megan’s hand that he would break her wrist. Crimson painted its way across her flayed skin as if it were watercolour. Her hair which was usually well kept was instead a matted mess. Her lips were a cold blue decorated with slits of scarlet. The left eye was swollen shut and coloured over with the deepest shades of bruises. Purples and greens washing into each other across her skin. Ignorance was supposed to bliss but the longer he ignored her injuries, the more they screamed out to him.

Bone stuck out from her lower right leg. It breached the surface of her skin and left behind a mess of torn flesh. He had been told that she had also fractured three ribs and broken her collarbone. Scans had shown no traumatic head injuries nor internal bleeding and that she was to be taken to surgery as soon as they could. 

“She’s missing two fingers…” Siris had overheard Felix whisper to Locus. They had all been in the waiting room during her scans and had only just been allowed through to see her before she was to be taken away. Felix hadn’t been mistaken, her right hand was absent of her small finger and ring finger. The entirety of her hand had been bandaged but had already soaked through with blood. Coarseness tainted Siris’ voice as he finally spoke up,   
“The doctor said they had her fingers on ice. There’s a chance they could reattach them.”   
Felix glanced from Siris to Locus and back to Siris,   
“Hey, uh, are you okay man…?”   
Siris’ gaze had been unwavering. Bursts of emotion pulsed through his veins, but he remained still.   
“Okay isn’t the word,  _ Gates…”  _ although he did his best not to hiss, he couldn’t hold back the spite in his voice.    
“The doctors will be back for her any minute, Felix and I will leave you until then…”   
Thankfully, Felix didn’t protest.

Without Felix and Locus, the room was empty of anything besides Siris, Megan and the seemingly unending beeping of machinery. He resisted the urge to shatter the monitor with a punch. Beneath his feet he felt the most distant of rumbles. When he finally tore his gaze from Megan, he noticed the change in weather. The coldest of sunsets bled into the most ominous of storm clouds. Few stars glimmered in the darkening sky as the clouds began to slowly flood the horizon. Distant growling of the sky only pushed more adrenaline into Siris’ veins.  _ There had been no calm before the storm. _

“Mr. Wu?” The voice awoken him from his hypnotised state.   
“Yes?” The sharpness of his voice was unintentional,   
“We are taking your wife through now. We apologise for the wait, we are immensely short staffed tonight.” The doctor seemed like a nervous man. Guilt riddled Sris for his tone,   
“No, it’s fine, I imagine you’re doing everything you can. Just…” he trailed off as his eyes lay on Megan, “take care of her…”   
“We certainly will, thankfully the other driver is now relatively stable, so Mrs. Wu has our full attention.”   
“Other driver…?” Siris repeated,   
“Yes, the driver who crashed into your wife. He wasn’t doing well there for a moment but, he seem okay for the time being.”   
“I.. I’m glad.” A lie if one was ever told.   
“I’m not surprised he lost control, driving that strange van-thing. Like a limo, but more of a cube? Vehicles are dangerous.”   
That caught Siris’ attention. The words  _ van-thing  _ were much too familiar.   
“They certainly are…” Siris whispered as he headed towards the door. Shaking the doctors hand as he left, Siris didn’t watch as Megan was wheeled away. He did, however, turn around to watch as she was taken through the doors to the surgical ward. The stillness left once the doors closed felt like a knife in his heart.

Finding the other driver’s room was no difficult task. He simply asked for the recently admitted crash victims as was lead directly to the room. It was eerily empty. The persistent beeping was accompanied by occasional flashes of lightning. Siris looked over the man unconscious in the bed. His skin was a pale shade, only it was decorated with less lacerations. A voice inside of Siris drove him to find out who the man was, to put a name to the crime. And so, without much conscious intent, he took the wallet from his bedside. It was amongst other damaged items. The ID Siris found only made everything worse. 

_ Amnesia ID: James Williams _

_ Amnesia.  _ He was one of Lozano’s men. Siris could hear himself grinding his teeth and before he could do anything reckless, he threw the wallet back and left to find his partners. Locus and Felix had found themselves on a balcony overlooking the city. It was a gorgeous view; white lightning dancing above streets glowing in neon. Despite such a view and the freshness of the air, the seriousness of the situation hung over them like smog.   
“Locus. I need to tell you something...” Felix chose an unfamiliar sentence starter. He would usually never choose something so bland. Spite was absent from his tone, something of a rarity.  
“What is it?” Locus asked, eyes watching a fork of lightning twist to the ground.    
“I met with Miller.” Locus opened his mouth to interrupt with words of anger but Felix stopped him before he could say anything, “and I know,  _ I know _ you didn’t want contact with him. But he’s given me something to consider.”    
Felix turned to face Locus but he didn’t respond. He watched as lightning flickered in Locus’ eyes before he placed his hand on Locus’ upper arm. Still, he didn’t respond.    
“Ortez, look at me…  _ please... _ ”    
  
Blinking before finally acknowledging him, Locus turned to face the smaller man. Holding back the urge to be angry at Felix wasn’t the easiest but a part of Locus was willing to listen. The smallest of shivers ran through him at the emotion in Felix’s eyes. It was strangely genuine and absent of any mischievousness. Even though they were facing each other Felix’s hand continued to linger on Locus’ arm.  
“Felix… you ignore me relentlessly, why would you think I would listen to you now?”  
“Because I have been offered something. Just… _ consider  _ this. We work the contract, we make sure it’s done properly, we also lower Ranier’s bank balance. It’s a triple win.”   
“Not for the person killed.”    
“The person killed has a bounty on them for a reason. Think about it. The inmate escapee stats. The amount of released criminals that kill again. Taking this person out could save future innocents and we would be taking money from a bad man at the same time...” Felix’s grip tightened on Locus’ upper arm.  
“Last time we did something like this, if I have to remind you, we were nearly killed.”  
“ _ Nearly _ . I have a scar the size of a golf ball that proves that. Locus we are  _ fighters _ , it’s what we’re good at. You can’t tell me you don’t pragmatically see the sense in it…” 

_ Pragmatically _ . The key word. The defining feature. 

“We found solace in this line of work because we couldn’t return to civilian life, Ortez. I know you. You’re a soldier at heart. You’re trying to fit back into the community and it’s admirable but it’s not realistic. What are you going to do? Work a regular job from open ‘til close? Sit in peak hour traffic and buy coffee religiously every morning? Fuck no. I know you want to make a difference, and this is how.” So much emotion swelled beneath those words. Locus was thankful that Felix didn’t have his hand over his heart because he could have sworn it skipped a beat.  
“We make the streets safer… we make a difference… that’s what soldiers do...” His voice had turned low as he inched closer to Locus.  
Loud crackling thunder interrupted them but they were too absorbed in their own world to acknowledge it. The reflections of the lightning that glimmer in Felix’s eyes were gorgeous but threatening. Yet Locus was hanging on Felix’s every word. They had meaning, something which Locus had felt he was lacking.  
“I agree on the one condition that we wait for Siris to be ready. Until then, we remain at a distance.”  
The smile that grew across Felix’s mouth was brighter than any strike of lightning.  
“We should leave Siris out of it for the time being. With his wife as she is, it might be too much for him… they need time to be okay, well, as okay as they can be…”

Siris was feeling so far away from okay that it seemed like a distant dream. The pulsating through his chest, along his arms, up through his temple, it was agonising. The thumps dragged on, the rhythm never ended. It was fueled by raging anger. It was almost energising in a way. So much so that he was barely able to stop himself walking when he finally found Locus and Felix. They were standing strangely close to one another. Felix had his hand resting on Locus’ upper arm. They were illuminated by a flash of lightning as Siris stood by the door watching them whisper to each other. Meaning must have riddled those words, it was not a common occurrence for Locus to allow that amount of contact. Yet Siris could see grip beneath the tips of Felix’s fingers. He wasn’t just resting his hand on Locus, no, he was grasping at him. Something which was even rarer.  
“I hate to interrupt…” Siris knocked his knuckles against the wall to get their attention. Instantaneously they tore themselves apart once Siris had made his presence clear.  
“Weren’t interrupting a thing…” Felix told him. Doubting immediately, Siris looked to Locus. His bottom lip was being held lightly between his teeth. Eyes distant, even though they were still stuck on Felix. Then, all emotion drained from his face. He looked to Siris with the blank expression he was accustomed too. 

“So… I…” Siris began to speak before he realised he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say. Neither Locus nor Felix pushed him to speak. Felix because he was bad at handling situations without turning them to jokes, and Locus because emotions weren’t his strong suit.  
“You okay Mace…?” Felix asked again, entirely unsure if the question was the right one.  
“Not really, I mean yeah I’m alright, I just…” he trailed off, “I just saw the man who drove Megan off the road…”  
That peaked their interests.  
“He’s walking? I’ll break his legs.” Felix hissed.  
“No, no, he’s unconscious but stable.” His tone said there was more to it.  
“What’s the bigger issue here?” Locus inquired slowly.  
“I just checked his ID… he’s an Amnesia employee…” 

The silence that followed the statement only reassured Siris’ anger. From Felix’s mouth escaped the most delicate of _‘oh’s_.  
“And so, Ruben Lozano haunts us from the grave…” Felix thought aloud.  
“Are you implying this was deliberate?” Locus asked straight out.  
“Not implying, no, it’s just that the coincidence is almost unbelievable. I have my suspicions.” Siris watched as a strike of lightning danced its way across the horizon. The crackling that followed nearly made him flinch. “You two should go home…”  
“Are you sure about that Wu? I mean, you’ve got a lot to deal with right now. Are you sure that you don’t need—“ Felix trailed off once he realised how little himself and Locus could possibly offer to help.  
“Am I sure that I don’t need your smart-arsery remarks and his emotional repression? Yes I’m sure, Felix. It’s okay, really.”  
Siris’ tone wasn’t spiteful nor was it harsh. It was a poor excuse for an attempt at humour which understandably failed.  
“We’ll leave you then.” Locus decided and spoke for the both of them, “if you need, call.”  
A small sentence worth an immense amount. Siris did appreciate Locus’ reach out, be it small and monotone. A sad smile grew on his lips before they left. Felix grasped his shoulder as he walked past and nodded confidently, Siris nodded back. Before long he was left alone, staring out at the storm. 

The thing about storms is that they can be easy to become lost in. The smell of rain in a city of smog flooded Siris’ lungs with calmness. Light dancing across sheets of darkening clouds rolling over the horizon was a sight to be remembered. The blending of artificial neon colours with sudden forks of electricity grounding themselves with godly force. A reminder that even the most intriguing of things could be deadly. 

It provided distraction. A distraction that didn’t last. Siris’ thoughts were being dragged back to the man in the bed. The one who’d run Megan off the road. James Williams. A name that screamed intent to harm. The thing about coincidences is that some are much too unreasonable. Clear reasoning put Siris in doubt that Megan’s condition, broken and splintered and fractured, was a mere coincidence to be at the hands of an Amnesia employee. His thoughts kept dragging him back there, so much so that his feet did the same. Before he was fully aware, he was standing by Williams’ bedside. 

Every muscle in Siris’ body screamed at him not to do it. Every part of his being knew just how wrong it was. But, in a moment of pure fury, he held the pillow down until the jolting stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AhHHhhh it's been a little while; sorry! CelestialRay and I have been working hard on Those The Leader-board Forgot. We have extended our collaborative efforts and now are writing in more characters! Hit me up on Insta @ImmortalError for any collab ideas :)


	11. To Drown In The Absence of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siris deals with the effects on his family while Locus and Felix visit an acquaintance.

**_L O C U S_ **

  
The days that followed Megan’s admittance into hospital were very quiet. Siris was rarely heard from and the hospital had no reason to call either Felix nor Locus. They were stuck in an impasse. To sit and patiently await for Megan’s condition to improve and for Siris to return? Or to take matters into their own hands? Locus hadn’t changed his mind on the contracts just yet but he remained skeptical and pessimistic. Something he couldn’t entirely be blamed for.    
  
Locus felt as if Siris was slipping away from him. He visited Siris at home on occasion, mostly unannounced since he had become radio silent. But the more he visited, the more details screamed out to him. Siris was living in the dark. The bright, beautiful house was darkened by the lack of light. Every switch was down, every room was obscured by shadow. Bags around Siris’ eyes only grew worse with time. They seemed to sink into his skull. Across his jaw was unkempt stubble. Never had Locus seen Siris’ in such a state of uncertainty. But all the evidence for that change that screamed out to him was mislead. Megan was on the road to recovery. Walking would be a difficult readjustment but it was more then possible. Her brain had been left without damage. She would have scars and a limp, yes, but she was lucky to not be hurt much more than that. It was a note on Siris’ bench that read  _ ‘James Williams’  _ in messy handwriting that confirmed Locus’ suspicions. Siris seemed so far from himself that Locus couldn’t reach out to him. 

“Keep running contracts..” Siris would say every time Locus visited, followed by comments such as ‘ _ Felix should be back in the field _ ’ or ‘ _ you two fight just as well without me’. _ But in truth, Locus wanted to tell Siris that the idea of working Ranier’s contracts was possibly a not-so-terrible idea. Locus convoluted excuses such as ‘ _ it would stop Ranier from returning to the Enteka blocks _ ’ or ‘ _ we could cause a bad man financial fluctuation’  _ but whenever Locus tried to bring it up, his mouth went dry. Siris had enough to worry about without Locus adding to it. But he  _ would _ put one of Siris’ worries to rest: he and Felix would keep running contracts. 

So Locus found himself, once again, at the Enteka blocks. The looming building only casted shadow down onto Locus, it did little to protect him from the rain. The water from the gutter had begun to back up and overflow onto the pavement. Locus was unfortunate enough to have stepped in the water somehow. One of two socks were soaked through. Locus had merely taken a sharp breath and told himself that the conversation would be worth the hassle. He knew otherwise. He truly knew that it wouldn’t be worthwhile. Conversations with Felix were rarely that.    
  
When the elevator doors slid open, Locus had no doubts that he was on the right floor. At the late hour of 9pm, Felix’s music was flooding the apartment block. Heavy bass trembled through the skeleton of the building and shook the ground beneath Locus’ feet. Muffled words chimed in with a distorted rhythm. Locus caught the eye of Felix’s neighbour who stood by his door, trying his utmost to put his key in the lock. The bags under his eyes had only grown darker. He slowly shook his head at Locus,   
“When I said that three in the morning was the worst time to listen to shitty music, I didn’t mean that any other time was acceptable.”    
Locus didn’t react to that but simply turned his head to Felix’s door and knocked. The second that the door opened he was assaulted by lyrics and Felix’s unimpressed expression. 

 

_ You understand I've got a plan for us. _ _   
_ _ I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous. _ _   
_ _ It must be fate, I found a place for us. _ _   
_ __ I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous.

 

“Wow, Ortez, long time no see. I was beginning to think that you’d forgotten about me.” He beckoned Locus inside.    
“Unfortunately not.” Locus muttered as he followed Felix’s gesturing hand into the dimly lit apartment.

 

_ You don't wanna fuck around with me.  _ _   
_ __ You're talkin' to a goddamn god.    
  


“Would you mind turning that down?” Locus turned to face the smaller man who looked beyond unimpressed with the request.   
“God... you just have to suck the fun out of everything, don’t you?” He made his way over to the radio and put his hand on the volume wheel.   
“Moreso for the sake of you neighbour.” Locus frown at Felix who slowly, oh-so slowly, began to turn the volume down.   
“ _ Fun _ ...” he moved his hand slower, “ _ sucked _ ...” Locus clenched his jaw in annoyance, “ _ out _ .”

 

_ Born and raised in the Vienna, rap' doch Deutsch, baby. Not.  _ _   
_ __ But I do come through with that one-two step---    
  


“Thank you,  _ kindly.”  _ Locus rasped through gritted teeth. He was not usually so easily agitated but  the image of Siris still dark eyed was lingering in his head. Locus felt as if he were beginning to drown, despite the absence of water.   
“What’s up your ass at…” Felix’s eye wandered to the clock, “9:23pm on this gorgeous Thursday afternoon?”   
“Give me the full weather report, why don’t you.”  
“Well it’s currently 57.2 degrees, Fahrenheit that is, it's also overcast and raining with a chance of a surprise visit from a forced acquaintance—-“  
The smallest of meows interrupted them. Felix looked as if he’d clenched his jaw, “Chianti,  _ you inconsiderate fuck _ .” He sighed, turning around to the cabinet. Hiding between the oak furniture and the wall was a tiny ginger cat.    
“You have...?” Locus trailed off,   
“A cat? Very perceptive. He’s small but he’s a son of a bitch, don’t let him fool you...” Felix told him as he shot the cat a glare. The ball of fluff only yelped in reply.    
“I was unaware.”   
”He would have been hiding every other time you’ve been here... he is not keen on strangers. He can sense crazy from a mile away.” Felix bent down to pick the cat up. It was resistant and unwilling to be toyed with. 

“May I ask why?” Locus inquired,   
“Well it’s a beautiful story really—“ the cat hissed at Felix whose faze froze in livid disbelief for a few seconds, “I caught the bastard stealing food from my cupboard once. I was impressed. I kept him. Never mind this sob story, what are you doing here?”    
Locus found no surprise in the notion that Felix didn’t know exactly what a ‘sob story’ entailed.    
“I’m here to discuss Ranier.” Locus saw Felix’s jaw clench,   
“You’re going to go back on your word, aren’t you?! You actual asshat.” He spat, getting closer to Locus and letting the cat go. Chianti must have noticed the change in atmosphere for he bared his teeth. Locus planted a hand firmly on Felix’s chest and pushed him back slightly.    
“If you allowed me to finish...” Locus nearly sneered. “I was going to say that Ranier was interested in meeting you.”    
Locus watched as a hundred micro expressions passed over Felix’s face. From surprised to excited, from nervous to assertive.    
“You’re sure about that?” Felix double checking was not common. Felix was very sure of himself, endlessly and irritatingly. But he had felt the need to double check.    
“Yes.” Locus confirmed, monotone. Felix quickly placed his hands on Locus’ neck.    
“ _ A Christmas miracle!”  _ He exclaimed, despite it being nowhere near Christmas, “I promise you this, Ortez… you won’t regret this.”    
Locus hesitated before he responded,   
“I better not.” Although he would be lying if he said his attention wasn’t purely focused on Felix’s words. More so Felix’s hands and the delicate resting place they’d found on Locus’ neck. “I’ll show myself out… and I’ll make the call shortly.”   
  
Ranier was conveniently available the following morning. With exchange of a few rusty propositions, they decided that it would be best to meet where they had first met. The temporary wreckage was better than an unfamiliar area. Yes Locus and Felix could be potential employees of Ranier but that didn’t cross out foul play. At least with a familiar area came a better chance at enduring an ambush. And a better chance of  _ surviving  _ said ambush. But when Locus nor Felix were patted down when they were met at the gates, an ambush seemed far less likely. Ranier had approached them unarmed and without guards.

  
“That’s him...?” Felix asked under his breath. Locus watched Felix’s seemingly captivated eyes.    
“Yes.” Locus hadn’t forgotten the limp that Ranier carried with him. If anything it brought him familiarity.    
“Huh...” Felix whispered, clearly by accident as he tilted his head questionably, “he’s...  _ not  _ what I expected.”    
As to whether that was a good or a bad thing was subjective. Felix was difficult to read, and his comments could be a quadruple bluff as far as Locus was concerned. Locus felt as if he merely knew Felix’s true standpoints on things.    
  
Ranier nodded to Locus as he got closer. They shook hands firmly,    
“Locus.” Ranier acknowledged him.    
“Ranier.” Locus nodded back just before a Ranier turned to Felix but kept his eyes on Locus.    
“You bring me another new player. A third in a few mere weeks. The game is getting interesting again.” He met Felix’s eyes. “And who might you be?”   
“Felix.” He held his hand out, “the better third of the group.”   
Ranier’s laugh was twisted by his raspy voice. He took Felix’s hand in a tight grasp.    
“Ranier, it pleases me to finally make your acquaintance. I’ve heard a lot about you, Felix...”    
“Likewise.” Felix shook his hand, “I regret not making it to your first meeting with my partners...”   
“You were injured, were you not? I hope you are in less strife now.” There was genuine concern in his rough tone.    
“I was... placed under house arrest actually.” As soon as the words left Felix’s mouth, Ranier he raised an eyebrow. “Not by feds, of course, but my  _ dear  _ partner here.”   
Ranier laughed under his breath. A smile dancing on his lips,   
“Oh, what are partners for if not for consideration?”    
“Between us, Locus isn’t what I would call considerate. There’s not much room to be considerate in our business...”   
Ranier laughed his rusty laughed as Locus pressed his lips together firmly. Felix was a people person, there was no doubt about that. It became an irritation as hours began to slowly pass by. Locus watched how Felix spoke to Ranier. His laugh so similar to that of the manic-laced laugh that had escaped his lips when he had called Gabriel Lozano all those weeks ago. Something about the tone drew Ranier to Felix too, Locus could see it. A part of him wondered just how well of a fit they could be in this world of  _ crims _ .

  
It was only a mere day following the meeting that they had their first contract offer. Felix’s engagement with Ranier was becoming more like a partnership then a mere contract or two. Locus was being signed up for contracts he barely knew anything about. The same meticulous planning and difficulty in progressing was gone. Replaced with Ranier’s own employees who seemed to have their eyes on every millimetre of the city. The contracts were small such as stealing things back from pickpockets and fences. Their talents were being severely under appreciated. Locus had no issue with that notion as it meant they wouldn’t get too involved until Siris was back in the field. But his phone may as well have been dead, he had not spoken a word of it. The cheques weren’t huge compared to their old work for the police. Ranier promised the size of the contracts didn’t represent his gratitude for their work, more so that his men weren’t very trusting. They had to prove themselves first.    
  
For the first time in a long time, Locus felt alone. Isolation was no enemy of his, if anything he found it to be a safe haven. Or at least he had,  _ once _ . But things were changing, things were becoming different. Locus’ world was slowing slipping into unpredictability. It was unpredictability that he didn’t appreciate. He could predict and assume but facts were always preferable. Without facts, without predictability, things could turn cataclysmic in an instant. They were wading in the ocean, knee deep in ice cold water. And with each contract they were stepping further into the depths. It was only once Ranier offered a real contract, beyond that of petty theft, that Locus felt as if he were caught in a king-tide rip.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW it's been too long since I last updated! Sorry for the delay; I had school finals and exams to focus on. Thankfully they're all done now and I did not too shabby, in all honesty. So now updates will return!  
> Shout out to Ross for the inspiration for Felix's cat Chianti. Also a shout out to all those who've been RvB ranting to me on insta; ya'll are an inspiration. AlSo a shout out to my co-writer/bestie Ray bc they're the best, sorry I don't make the rules.  
> It's T-10 minutes until Christmas so, Merry Christmas!


	12. The Unorganised Raid on Camperdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Locus visit Siris and find the unexpected.

**_F E L I X_ **

 

“We will enter the building here, take out the target here, then we leave. Done deal banana peel.” Felix smirked at the layout of the building, ignoring the confused disappointment on Locus’ face.    
“ _ Take out the target _ ...” Locus repeated,    
“Yeah. I have a few restaurant recommendations if you want advice? There’s a place around the corner, Mirrors, they do great deals on drinks. Just remember to contain yourself with alcohol, get smashed and you’ll hardly know yourself.” Locus was considering hitting Felix with a surprise, but well deserved, uppercut. “How’s Siris fitting into all of this?”   
“He’s not.” Locus looked over the blueprint of the contract’s location.   
“Megan is still in the hospital?”   
“Yes.”   
“Siris is still radio silent?”   
“Yes.”    
“You just gonna give me one word answers?”    
“Yes.”   
Felix scoffed at him as he took the edge of the blueprints in his fingertips and began to roll them up. Before he could get far, Chianti jumped onto the table and planted himself directly on the blueprints which stopped Felix in his path. He narrowed his eyes at the feline who glared back with just as much irritation.   
“Chianti,  _ buddy _ , I will move your litter box to the fucking street.” Felix hissed at the cat who hissed right back at him. Locus didn’t bother reminding Felix that he didn’t actually have a litter box and that the cat probably spent most of his time marking the neighbours apartments as his own property. Although something about the cat did catch Locus’ attention.    
“His right eye is glazed over, Felix.”    
Felix broke the staring competition, marking himself as the loser, and looked to Locus in confusion. “Could be serious. Take him to the vet.”    
“Take him to the...? Ortez when the fuck do you think I’m going to have time for that? And how would I even find a vet?”   
“...Vets are common Felix. Siris would know. He’s got a cat.” Locus picked Chianti up so that Felix could roll the blueprints up.    
“Mhm as good of a reason to visit as any. Gives us a free excuse to check that Wu is alright.”    
  
The streets were mostly empty on such a foul weathered night. The rain was relentless and the water on the road began to glimmer in neon colour reflecting off the surrounding buildings. Water sprayed off the wheels of the car onto the sidewalk as they pulled up by Siris’ house.    
“Lights are out. He’s not here.” Felix shrugged.    
“I’ve been here before when they’ve been out. He could be inside.” Exiting the car, Locus didn’t bother to shield himself from the rain.    
“Ortez. Why would he— oh Christ it’s cold out here!”   
“Because not all people like to make their presence painfully obvious, Felix.” Locus retorted.    
“Is this a comment about my music? Because my neighbour is alright about it. At least I haven’t heard him complain.”   
“You can’t hear him complain _ over your music. _ ” Locus watched Felix huddle himself into his hoodie. It was a thick fabric, orange in colour with a pumpkin face printed on it in black. When Locus has asked why he was wearing it despite it not being Halloween, his only retort was  _ ‘Locus, for me it’s always Halloween’  _ and Locus didn’t want to question past that. The beanie on his head was quite pathetic in an attempt to beat the cold. It was a thick grey beanie with orange triangles banding around the bottom part of it. His jeans were skinny jeans and were black in colour. Locus could only imagine his small size made the temperature that much worse.    
  
Siris didn’t answer when they knocked the first time. Not the second. Nor the third. It was just before a fourth that Felix looked him dead in the eye, shrugged, and mumbled,   
“Fuck it.”    
Just before sliding the closest window up and clambering through. It was a small window however and so Locus stood patiently at the door waiting for Felix to open it from the inside,   
“Hi hello, we uhh, we don’t do sale pitches here. Thank you anyway, have a lovely day—“   
“Felix move.” Locus frowned as he pushed his way past Felix into the house.    
“I’ve called out. He’s not here...” Felix confirmed, looking over his shoulder as he closed the door.    
“There must be something here that could lead us t—“ Locus cut his own sentence off as he walked into the kitchen. He froze, hypnotised by the scene before him.    
“What did you find?” Felix joined him before he saw the scene before them, “holy fuck... what happened here...?” Felix whispered, eyes trailing over shattered glass and damaged furniture. The house was a war zone, damaged beyond recognition.    
  
“It wasn’t like this the last time I was here.” Locus followed the trail of shrapnel to a mirror which had mere glass left in it. By the corner of it was a marking that caught his eye. Not entirely sure what drove him, he picked the mirror up off the wall and placed it by his feet. Behind the mirror the wall was covered in writing. James Williams’ name was written over and over, with distorted and messy lettering.    
“Woah...” Felix took a step back in shock, “what in the fuck?”   
“James Williams.” Locus stated, looking at the way the letters seemed to fold into one another.    
“Why is that name familiar...?” Felix asked, pulling out his phone. The bright white light of the phone illuminated the dark household.    
“He was the man who ran his car into Megan. Caused the accident.” Locus hadn’t been told that directly but had overheard a doctor saying it. As to why Felix was using his phone with such intensity was not something he asked. A heavy silence washed over them as Locus trailed his fingers along the writing on the walls. Some were fresh, some were dry. Some were light, others embedded markings into the wall. Although, eventually, Felix broke the silence.    
“Oh shit... Locs...” Felix trailed off, “James Williams died of asphyxiation... there was an article about it, something about bettering hospital equipment, but...”   
He trailed off, looking at the wall,   
“...but something tells me the hospital equipment  _ wasn’t  _ to blame...”    
  
Although the wreckage of Siris house made it difficult to identify even the most common of objects, Locus and Felix found a lead of sorts. Amongst a tables worth of loose papers of police records and news articles, they had managed to identify something that could help them find where Siris was. There seemed to be not much more than scribbled handwriting, messy highlighting, maps of connections and unintelligible notes. Eventually Felix became bored of the excessive sorting of documents and began looking elsewhere. That’s when he had picked up a small piece of paper up from the kitchen counter and began reading over it    
“Oh fuck me sideways.” Felix muttered, ignoring the cat nuzzling its nose into his ankle.    
“What is it?” Locus asked, Felix held the note up to him but read it aloud.    
_ “AMNESIA. Possible overnight refuge?? Thursday evening, Camperdown Motel.”  _ _   
_ “Camperdown Motel.” Locus repeated as he looked to Felix. “That’s not exactly close.”    
“What in the fuckery does ‘possible overnight refuge’ mean?”    
“It means Siris thinks that he has found the other Amnesia employees.” Locus grimaced. “And if James Williams is dead...”   
The both of them turned to the writing on the wall as Felix whispered a breathless,   
“Siris, you crazy son of a bitch, what are doing...”    
  
The half an hour drive to Camperdown was enough to make Felix fidgety. There was a clear anxiousness driving his movements. Camperdown was nutritious for its criminal market. The rooms were rumoured to have plastic sheets under them and first aid kits in the bedside draws for people returning from ‘working’. Rooms were designed for individuals to perform surgery on themselves. It was late by the time that Locus and Felix pulled up at the rundown motel. The stairs of the place was one of the only things falling apart quicker then Felix’s patience.    
“Where the fuck could he be??” Watching the flickering light that shone  __ ‘Camperdown Motel! Open 24/7’, Felix shook his head. There would be mere points of motels if they didn’t allow 24/7 access.   
  
Locus slowly took the car through the car park. The both of them eyeing the surrounding areas and watching for any movement. The rain didn’t help, nor the clouds that blocked all moonlight. It seemed to be empty of people until he saw a figure stumbling down the stairs to stand on the road. The man seemed uncertain on his feet. It wasn’t until Felix recognised the metallic texture of the leg that shimmered in the light, that Felix made the connection.    
“Wu...?” Felix hissed at the figure who stood in the car park. The motel sign and flickering motion sensors were the only lights to help them see. However they didn’t need much light to recognise their partner. Siris had hit rock bottom. His skin was laced with a sickly shade and he looked as if he had black eyes. But the real indication that there was something much worse bubbling beneath the surface was the crimson. The red colour that dripped from Siris’ knuckles. He turned to meet Locus and Felix’s eyes, wide and scared.    
“I-I promise I can explain...” he seemed to be almost shaking.    
“Siris, just come with us.” Locus demanded before he caught sight of the amount of blood, “what did you do?” 

  
Siris extended his hands outwards, moving it around under the light. He watched the shimmer on the scarlet as he whispered,   
“I... I killed them...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to Ross for all the inspiration, you help me with this story so much! Ross is the genius behind a fair few of the details in these chapters; like Felix's ridiculously amazing pumpkin hoodie. So yes, our Lolix rambling is good fun so thank you for that :)


	13. A Year Long Winter

**_S I R I S_ **   
  


With mere protest Felix managed to half lead, half drag Siris to the car. Locus placed himself in the driver's seat, keeping the car as dark and quiet as he possibly could until they could get away. Siris just watched the world dip in and out of his vision. Felix’s pale face had clearly been drained of colour by the cold. Siris felt a swell of worry for his partner. Once Felix crashed into the backseat with Siris and slammed the door, Locus floored the accelerator.    
“Fuck Locus!” Felix spat, “easy on the corners!”    
“What’s his condition?” Siris heard Locus ask with an un-Locus like sense of urgency,   
“They uhh...” Siris felt the need to talk. He had to explain. _Context was important._ But when he tried to answer he couldn’t find the words, “there were more of them then I was expecting... a few too many shivs for me to take into account. They uhh...”   
Siris pulled his hands away from his stomach. Blood connected his palms to his stomach in beady red strands that stretched across the distance as he moved them.    
“Oh fuck.” The whisper that left Felix’s mouth alerted Locus further. No jokes, no satire, only shock. Before he could ask, Felix was by his shoulder, “he’s been stabbed... more then once.”   
“Fuck.” Locus whispered venomously,   
“Wow Locus did you just... _swear_?” Felix’s tone made his face so much more slappable, “that’s hot.”   
Siris half smiled, his blood caked lips upturning only slightly.    
“Felix, now is not the time.”   
“Sorry. Yes. _Stabbed partner._ That takes the priority.”    
  
Priority for Siris was refusing being sent to the hospital. Things would connect much too quickly; the car accident, the death of James Williams, the crimes at the motel, Siris’ wounds. Everything would create a picture perfect case against him. So instead, once again, they returned to Siris’ house.    
“Home is safer.” Siris would say, the lack of blood drawling his words, “home is safer.”    
Felix and Locus only hoped that no one would visit the house for any reason. Felix had suggested people like a mailman, a church goer or a neighbor there to complain about music. The last one seemed out of character for Siris, Locus found the likelihood of that one to be low.  The sun was beginning to rise by the time that they pulled up to Siris’ house. Felix had run through the front door he had mistakenly left open while Locus did his best to discreetly get Siris out of the car. Felix‘s first move was to put a plastic sheet out across the couch for Siris to lie over when Locus eventually carried him inside. But he was stubborn, blood loss made him stubborn. He insisted he would ‘figure this out’ and would do not much more then scowl as Locus collected the proper equipment to treat the wounds. 

  
“I thought you two were supposed to be busy. Running contracts. Not... fucking following me around.” Siris huffed, face in his hands. He rarely swore, it was such an oddity. Bleeding and cursing without consideration.     
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about the contracts for a while, Siris. We have been working contracts, just not with the police.”   
Felix’s tone with unnaturally and disturbingly comforting. As if he were about to rip off a band aid. Only the band aid was news that could lead to them being disowned. Siris sighed as he wandered to the couch and dropped himself onto it. The material sunk beneath him as the plastic was beneath his weight.   
“Why are you two working for Ranier?”   
He asked with his face in his hands beyond sleep deprived. He was still a quick thinker, piecing things together.    
“A number of reasons—“ Locus could barely finish his sentence before Felix stepped forward,   
“ _Why are we working with Rainer??_ How about _why the fuck are you fucking killing people in shitty run down fucking motels??”_ Felix snapped.  
“I can explain, I swear. Just give me a few minutes to absorb all of this. How did you guys know where I would be?”   
“We came over to see you... well we came over to find the name of a vet. However, you weren’t here. But this was.”    
Felix handed over the piece of paper. It was so delicately folded that Siris opened it with a cautiousness.    
“A vet?”   
“Yes, for my cat...”   
“Right... I’ll uh, go find their business cards.” Siris shifted from the blood pooling plastic. Locus made a move to stop him but Felix jumped in front of him.    
“Let him think about other things...” Felix whispered lightly into his ear as he lay a hand on Locus’ upper chest. Both of them turned to watch as Siris began to awkwardly sort through draws while leaving a trail of blood across the floor.    
  
Locus turned back to look at Felix. His face was no more alert then what it usually was. His eyes were narrowed somewhat, orange flecks immersed in hazel staring at their partner. There was something about that look that stirred something in Locus. An urge. He unconsciously moved closer to Felix, pressing his lips close to his ear to ask a question he had been impatient to ask.    
“You were insistent that we take a contract from Ranier... _why_?”    
Locus’ question seemed to stump Felix. The glimmer in those hazel eyes when they finally moved back to look at Locus was almost hypnotising. Felix took a deep breath.    
“Did I ever tell you why I love winter so much, Locs?”    
“Matches the temperature of your heart?” Even though Siris wasn’t immediately a part of the conversation, he was listening. Once he had found the business card, he flicked it at Felix and limped back over the couch.    
“Hilarious, you’re really funny Siris. Honestly, why be a bounty hunter when you could be a comedian. Or do both.”   
Felix watched Siris limp back over to the couch where he lay limp. Locus knelt by him and slowly began to clean the blood from his stomach. “Kill ‘em with comedy. Why limit your options?”    
“Get to the point.” Locus snapped as he pulled himself away from Felix to kneel by the couch and treat Siris’ wounds.    
“I love winter because, when it rains, the soil becomes weak. Step on grass and the world just bends beneath your feet...”   
“What are you trying to say?” 

  
“I’m trying to say... even just the _idea_ of working Ranier’s contracts _makes it feel like it’s winter all year ‘round._ ”    
  
Locus felt his heart skip a beat. The depth to the statement was concerning and the slightest bit unsettling. He saw Siris look over his shoulder, realising what it meant. Felix liked the power of it. The contracts could be dangerous, yes, but the power it could give him was worth that risk.    
“So, what, you want to feel like you’re on top of the world?”   
“Uhhhm yes. Is that rhetorical? Who doesn’t?”    
Felix’s eyes wandered to the bowl of water swirling in vermilion. He watched as the colour seeped into the water and stained it. Siris’ clothes were damaged irreversibly and the wounds that painted on him were like the most traumatic works of art.    
“I just want to feel like I’m on the globe at all...” Siris whispered, “with Megan so hurt I just... feel like my tether to the earth    
has been split. I don’t kn-“   
  
Before Siris could finish his sentence, Locus’ phone rang. On the other end was the last person that Locus wanted to talk to.    
“It’s Ranier.”   
But Felix pushed him to answer the call.    
“Hello Locus. Gorgeous evening. Strange circumstances. Here’s an odd wonder; do you know of a place called Camperdown?”   
Locus bit his lip through his lie.    
“Not that I’m aware of.”   
“Hm interesting, interesting.” The rusty voice rambled, “please may I speak to your partner if he is so available?”   
Locus handed the phone to Felix who switched it to speaker.    
“This is Felix.”   
“Felix! Evening, kind Sir. Was just contemplating if you were aware of Camperdown?”   
“Can’t say that I am.” Felix flinched. The phone went silent in his hand momentarily. The mere idea of their lies being recognised was enough for Felix to bite his lip.    
“Ah to hell with your current contract!” Ranier snapped suddenly, “some of my men staying at that motel have been killed. So I have a new contact for you two; find and kill the man who is responsible for this attack. I’ll send you the details gentlemen, good day.”    
Without another moment passing, Ranier hung up.    
  
The silence that the absence of the phone call left was eerie. The seriousness of the situation had suddenly dawned on all of them.    
“Siris. The men you killed weren’t Amnesia employees.” The words that Felix muttered were laced with uncertainty.    
“They were!”    
“Clearly fucking not?!” He snapped.    
“The men I went after were Amnesia. Lozano said that he would go after the people we loved and he did! From the fucking grave! I wasn’t going to sit on by while the remaining Amnesia staff planned another move!”    
Locus was much too focused on cleaning Siris’ wounds to interject into the argument. It didn’t last much longer then that. Siris was tired and injured. The loss of blood would have been impeding on his conscious ability. Felix was merely pacing out of frustration. Stains of splattered blood soaking into his orange hoodie. If anything it ironically made the Halloween aspect of it more festive.    
  
“Okay. Okay okay okay o-fucking-kay.” Felix rambled, “where do we go from here? How do we... fix this? We have an injured man who mindlessly executed an unplanned raid on a motel. In doing so he killed his targets but also a few of the men we work with. Now our new boss wants us to kill said man who just happens to be our partner. How do we deal with this...?”    
The situation was beyond unreasonable. The pure vengeance of circumstance.    
“I have to go.” Siris sighed, wincing as Locus accidentally brushed a wound the wrong way, “I have to get Megan and leave. Ranier will kill us.”    
“Wait no. Siris that wouldn’t work. Ranier would know it was you if you left. There’s nothing more damning then up and leaving. He would figure it out immediately.”    
“Wait... wait... how did Ranier know?” The room when into quiet questioning before Felix spat, “the fucking news...”   
He essentially scrambled for the remote. The television was the only artificial light in the house. It’s suddenness burnt at their eyes as Felix flickered through channels. Until finally, he found what he was looking for.    
  


_ “Fourteen bodies were found in Camperdown Motel this evening...” _ __   
  


Locus and Felix looked to each other. Siris remained unwavering. 

_ “In what appears to be a planned assault.”   
_

  
Felix didn’t want to watch the screen. Cameras panning out on footage of the motel. Crime scene tape and police cars swarming the motel.    


 

_ “Authorities are investigating the case which has potential link to other incidents around the city.” _

 

  
Locus could only think about the quarry. The mess that had been left. Ranier has dealt with it... had he not? Siris remained unwavering.    


 

_ “From footage from the motel; one man can be seen leaving the area at the suspected time of the attack.” _

 

__   
Felix searched his brain for what Siris had been wearing. A black hoodie, thankfully, at least it had obscured his face. The camera hadn’t picked up neither himself nor Locus.    


 

_ “Conflicting reports mention involvement of three or more other possible individuals and it is known that there was at least one car at the scene.” _

 

  
Did reports mean witnesses? Locus wondered. How many witnesses could there have possibly been? Siris remained unwavering. 

 

_ “The people investing the case beckon anyone who knows anything to come forward.” _

 

If anything, the three of them had moved backwards in their seats. Locus knew he had taken a few steps back, as if distance would fix it.    


 

_ “And now the weather—“   
_

 

Siris remained unwavering as Locus pressed the mute button and plunged them into silence. The kind of silence that you can feel in your skin. The silence that beckons goosebumps and lets you hear your own heart beating. A sick reminder of reality and mortality.    
“Fourteen...?” Felix repeated as he softly sat beside Siris, “you killed fourteen people Mace?”   
Siris was silent. His eyes watched the muted television screen. Colours of all nature flashed across his face as he stared aimlessly. As he rested his chin on his hands he began to look empty,   
“Fifteen.” He finally said, “I killed fifteen people.”    
Locus and Felix exchanged a concerned look. Siris took a deep and unstable breath. He moved his hands from his face and outstretched them before him. He looked at his palms, shaky and covered in spots of blood.    
“James Williams died at my hands too...”   
  
Then softly, with a voice strained by pain, he whispered under his breath,   
“That makes me no better then the people we are trying to take down...”    
Felix turned his head slightly as he ground his teeth together. Locus furrowed his brow slightly.    
“No fuck that.” Felix spat, “fuck that to hell and back! You did what you did to protect your family, to protect Megan. You did what you thought was right! But fuck... what do we do now...?”   
Locus closed his eyes and thought about it all. No answer seemed right.    
“We work with Ranier on this...” That peaked both Felix and Siris’ interest.    
  
“We find someone else to frame.”


	14. A Strange Fixation on the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix finds himself thinking a lot more then he usually does...

**_L O C U S_ **   


  
Almost immediately after they left Siris’ house and Locus dropped Felix off at the Enteka blocks, he could no longer keep his mouth shut. He took Locus’ wrist and dragged him around the side of the building. The area was obscured by low hanging tree branches and the shadow of the night. Felix looked around and before Locus could even get a word out, he was shushed. Felix pressed a finger against Locus’ lips as the doors of the blocks opened and a woman walked out. Felix shrunk back into the shadow and watched her leave, waiting for the clicking of her heels to become distant. His finger still on Locus’ lips. When the coast was clear, Felix nearly burst.   
“What the fuck was all that?!” He asked with such a lack of specificity that Locus could only stare and blink.   
“Care to clarify?”  
“Mason and his fucking breakdown?!” Felix asked, eyes still scanning the street front for passing byers. Alert for all ears.   
“Why would he not...?” Locus asked, watching Felix’s eyes dart back and forth.   
“Because he’s a trained killer of men, Locs?! Because he killed more people at the quarry??” Felix tried to whisper. Although, he wasn’t particularly good at it.   
“Consider it, Felix. He’s killed, yes, but under different circumstances. Orders or contracts or, like in the quarry, a direct attack. He might not have ever killed people like how he has now.”   
God knew if Felix was actually listening to Locus. His eyes were still scanning and paying attention to the landscape around him.   
  
Locus took Felix’s wrist and pressed two fingers against the pale flesh. Felix jolted back with a curse. Once he found the beat, he counted.   
“You’re anxious...” He observed Felix’s heart rate.   
“Wow you’re good at this investing thing, Locs, maybe you should make it a job—“ now Felix was the one being shushed. Locus let go of Felix’s hand but only to place the hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat. The other hand, he lay on Felix’s stomach.   
“Breathe slower, and from your stomach, not your chest.” Locus told him solemnly.   
“Breathe through my, what...?” Felix screwed his face up at the request.   
“Don’t fight me on this, just do it.”  
Although Felix’s expression of irritation gave Locus the impression that he wasn’t going to follow through; he did. Locus felt the shift in breathing beneath his palms and, after not too long, he felt the change in heart rate too.   
“Better.” He met Felix’s eyes. He’d been too occupied watching for the rise in his chest that he hadn’t noticed Felix looking directly at him.   
“You, uhh...” Felix took a quick breath, seemingly flustered, before he composed himself, “you come here often?”  
Locus narrowed his eyes at his partner.   
  
“Go rest, Isaac. We’re going to need it.”   
Felix bit his lip, resting his hand on Locus’ upper arm,  
“Wow. We on a first name basis now...?” Felix smirked before seeing the disappointment in Locus’ expression. “But I uh will... and thanks. I uhh, I appreciate it.” Felix stammered out his version of a thank you. Without much warning, Felix’s hand moved down to wrap his fingers along Locus’ wrist as he whispered, “we’re deep in it this time...”   
  
Should Locus have questioned just why Felix’s fingers were dancing lightly over his wrist? Probably. Did he? Certainly not. The odd feeling rushed over him once more. Felix’s cheek in the palm of his hands all those weeks ago, the sensation was transferred to his wrist. Locus who was barely responding to any of it eventually he whispered back,  
“We’re partners. And we’ll live up to that title in its entirety. Whatever is needed...”   
The gesture was enough to make Felix smile a little. And smile a little genuine smile.   
“Same goes for you Ortez. Always and forever.” Then he let his wrist go. He brushed some loose strands of Locus’ hair behind his ear and stepped back out into the light of the Enteka block. He gestured goodbye with a quick flick of two fingers and wished Locus a goodnight before making his way into the building. It was then that Locus took a deep breath and, in his own silence, rested his head back against the brick wall. When he eventually opened his eyes, he found himself watching the stars.   
  
The week days had begun merging for Locus after that night. Of course he knew when a day passed by. The hours of dark was an indication, although he was spending most of his time indoors. He could not differ Tuesday from Thursday nor Friday from Wednesday. The power in his house had, at some point, gone out. Clock faces blinked in meaningless green digits patiently waiting to be adjusted. Order was what Locus lived his life by. He liked rules, standards, expectations. He liked the idea of adaptation and adjustment. But in his week of nameless days, his priorities had changed unexpectedly. Those clock faces continues to blink. He continued, day by day, to be ignorant of the passing of time.   
  
Locus wasn’t sure at what point the stars started to have meaning for him. All he knew is that they did. If the days had no names then he figured he may as well learn the names of the stars. Some days were notable for important events. Such as a meeting with Ranier or visit to the hospital. Or a visit to the vet for Felix’s cat who just so happened to receive some unexpected news. The expression on his face was priceless when the vet had told him.   
“Mr. Gates...?” Felix had turned to look at the vet who was still inspecting the cat, “did you double check your forms?”  
“Yes...?” He screwed his face up and looked to Locus, “I never make a mistake.”  
“I only ask because, well, Chianti isn’t a male.”   
Felix’s face froze and intently stared towards the middle distance.   
“You’re telling me...” he eventually asked,   
“That your cat is female? Yes. I was also inquiring because, well, for species you wrote cat and for breed you also wrote cat.”   
Locus shook his head, “that’s three mistakes.”   
“Thats be because he— she— is a fucking cat.” He had thrown his arms up in the air.   
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Locus had quipped. Felix had only responded by numbing his arm with a quick punch.   
  
The three of them’s involvement in the murder of both Lozano and Ranier’s men required discretion. But being discreet about their involvement also included, ironically, more involvement. Locus, Siris and Felix had to visit Ranier just as often as they had been. Majority of the time it was just Felix and himself, using the excuse that Siris was occupied with other matters.   
  
The question regarding just why Ranier had men with Lozano’s was one which had apparently had an easy answer. Locus has asked why they were in that same room to which Ranier had only said,  
“We were giving the Amnesia employees a chance to be free again.”   
The three of them exchanged a look,  
“Lozano was blackmailing most of his men. Money gets you good employees but fear gets you good dogs. And the Amnesia staff were all dogs.”  
No one spoke up against him.  
“And like dogs; just because they were a bit sick doesn’t mean they need to be put down.”  
Felix had to restrain himself from flinching then. He could only imagine how that would’ve felt to Siris’ ears. But his poker face remained unwavering.

  
The three of them had also had begun to run weekly meetings in Enteka regarding just exactly how they were going with what was essentially framing a man. There was many people who _could_ be framed but many many less who _would_  be framed. Locus suggested Miller, which was automatically shut down. No matter how hard they thought; no names called out to them. Of course all three of them were desperate to know how the case was going. The idea of any evidence they could have left was like a bad itch. They had no way of knowing and they were avoiding not just researching it but also the area itself. Camperdown was, luckily, not a central area for them. Jason Oaks, their irritatingly chatty arms dealer, was the first person to have given them an indication on the case’s progress. He had briefly mentioned it over the phone to Felix, saying that it was good the initial incident involving Lozano was losing traction because of this recent attack and that the Camperdown footage isn't exactly clear enough for the case to blow over quickly.. He followed that up with an apology about getting high when the Lozano issue occurred.   
  
Felix and Locus has visited Oaks in the late hours of a day Locus didn’t know the name of. They had both agreed to rewatch the footage themselves, to bring it up and explain it to him. Oak’s olive skin was covered in scaly scars between his forearm and upper arm. They looked old though, and Locus couldn’t help but be grateful for it. Oaks had always had an issue with drugs but the scabs had formed during their first month of working together. Old scars were good, Locus reminded himself, before remembering that he was indeed the pot calling the kettle black. Foundation on his face covered his own scars.

They explained everything, within reason, to Oaks. He could be trusted, yes, but not too much. He was a criminal at heart and not Locus nor Felix believed he was entirely invested in either of them. They told him they had been on scene, but why or when or how was left out. He did let them watch the footage in their own privacy. What they saw was a weight lifted.  
“So... I can identify you when I usually can because, well...” Felix huffed at the screen, “you’re a big fuck off hunk of a man. But I can barely see you here…””   
“You say that as if your size isn’t also distinct? What was it that Siris called you? Dried spaghetti?”   
“Hey fuck you, spaghetti is delicious.”   
Oaks snorted, rubbing his eyes with a distinct exhaustion.

“I don’t understand the point you’re trying to prove here—“  
“My point is, you can’t be seen properly, neither can I, we’re in the clear.”   
But, in all reality, they didn’t feel that they were _in the clear_ . If anything, they felt obscured by smoke. And smoke, _well_ , smoke eventually cleared.

So days continued to pass by nameless and with every accompanying night, Locus learnt the name of a star. A distinct reminder that they were small in the span of all things. That everything that was happening was a single problem was one amongst many. But Locus really hoped that learning and repeating those names would tire him to sleep. Most nights, it did. On rough nights he would repeat them in alphabetical order. _Acrux. Antares. Bellatrix. Canopus. Diadem. Hadar. Polaris. Pollux. Procyon. Rigel. Rigil Kentaurus. Vega._ There was one name of a star in particular that was hitting too close to home. Reminding him of exactly what the whole process was against. It brought him back into the real world. And so he did his best to merely ignore one of the brightest stars in the sky. One night it had been seemingly impossible for Locus to get any sleep whatsoever. He tried recounting the stars only backwards, to no avail. It hadn’t even reached midnight before he got a message from Felix that simply said,   
**_“Felix. 11:43pm._ ** **_  
_ ** _Any chance you could swing by?”_ _  
_ Locus was off put by the notion. For some unknown reason he had felt a sick feeling hit his stomach. The text was uncharacteristically plain. No bad joke or insult. No demand or profanity. It was a mere request and not much more. But some part of Locus decided to pick himself up, and take himself over to the Enteka blocks.

 

The sick feeling only grew worse when he passed Felix’s neighbour. The poor man still looked exhausted but, this time, something was different. He looked, almost concerned.

“Your boyfriend dead or something?” Locus only frowned at him. “God you’re a match made in hell, you two. He won’t shut it and you don’t say a damn thing. Just... make sure that he’s _not_ dead.”

That sat unbelievably uneasy in Locus’ stomach as the elevator moved upwards. _Dead_ . What could that mean? He figured it out quite quickly as he stepped out onto the level. It was _quiet_. No music. No bass. No muffled singing. Utter and absolute silence. Any other time, Locus would have been grateful. But it didn’t fit well, it didn’t sit right. Everything felt as if it was wrong. Out of place, almost.

Felix looked almost unsettled as he opened the door and lead Locus into the apartment in dead silence. Locus watched him as he walked. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying the weight of the world. Still, without a word, he basically fell limp onto his bed. Locus stood at the end of the bed, looking at his partner who seemed to be suffocating himself in quilts.  
“Could I… ask for some context?” Locus asked slowly and carefully. Eventually Felix uttered a muffled response through fabric.  
“I can’t sleep.”  
“I was aware of that.” Felix turned his head to look up at Locus but didn’t say anything, “your apartment is missing an element.”  
“The music?” Felix asked, “well I decided that I would try and think clearly about all this. And for that I would need quiet. But with quiet came… clearer thinking then I wanted.”  
Locus narrowed his eyes at his partner. Had Felix really spiraled? It was unlike him to become wound up in the emotional aspects of things. Felix turned himself only his back so he could talk at his ceiling light.  
“And then I couldn’t sleep. But I figured that you’re always quiet. How do you get to sleep?”

Locus took a breath, trying to find a way to help.  
“I think until I’m tired. Often I fall asleep after that.” Locus watched as Felix sat himself up, a pillow in his lap, his arms wrapped around it.  
“So I have to think more to think less…? What kind of backwards ass logic is that??” He screwed his face up.  
“It…” Locus sighed, “it does work. I promise. Just—“  
Felix tapped the quilt besides him expectedly. Locus hesitated before he sat beside Felix. It was then he decided to take a new approach. Actually asking Felix what was keeping him up. Directly addressing it. Felix shrugged slightly at first and simply said,

“There nothing to address.” But when Locus took his wrist and felt his pulse, he knew that was another lie. Locus instructed him on how to breathe through his stomach again. Felix was unbelievably wound up, for someone who pretended to be carefree all the time. With one hand on his stomach and the other on Felix’s chest, Locus paid all his attention to the rate of his heart.  
“You need to address your breathing, for one thing. It’s atrocious.”  
“Atrocious?? _Ouch_. I felt that one in my poorly performing heart.” He pretended to wince in pain before smirking.  
“Make your jokes all you want. You’ll never be tougher than the need to breathe.”  
No part of Locus’ statement was incorrect. Without much warning, Felix’s hands found themselves cupping Locus’ cheeks,  
“I will continue to make all the jokes I want, I’ll get a goddamn laugh out of you one day.”  
Before he threw up self back into the masses of pillows. Locus shook his head, stood from the bed, and told Felix he was to leave.

 

“Wait!” Felix sat back up, hand outstretched as if he could reach Locus. Physically, he couldn’t. But emotionally, he’s stopped his partner in his tracks. The words he wanted to say were stubborn and foreign. He struggled to let them leave his mouth, “please, stay.”  
Locus raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s already midnight. You might as well just.” Felix shrugged.

“Okay.” Locus agreed, “I'll take the couch.”   
Felix looked almost reserved for a second. As if he wanted to speak but something, probably common logic, had stopped him. Locus didn’t know exactly _why_ he had said yes. If anything, it was to keep an eye on him. Locus took his place on that couch and begun recounting the names. In recent times he had decided that every day he would add another. _Fomalhaut_ was the next in line. And so he spent time sorting that into his list. Eventually he begun to fall asleep to the unusual silence of Felix’s apartment.

By some means Felix had convinced him that 3am was the optimal time to go for an unplanned walk around the city. Locus had only just fallen into unconsciousness as Felix had slapped him back into the world.  
“Get the fuck up.”  
“Wh—“ Locus had rubbed his eyes sleepily,  
“I said get the fuck up, we’re going for a walk.”  
“Going for a what?”  
“Walk. W. A. L. K. Fuck you get dumb when you’re tired.” He rolled his eyes and slapped Locus on the thigh. Locus’ eyes opened at that, to see Felix perched on the back of the couch.  
“Okay okay…” he shook himself awake, “just one thing, Felix.”“Mmhmmm..?”  
Locus lashed his leg out and caught Felix in the shoulder. He toppled off the back of the couch with a high pitched outcry.  
“Don’t wake me up like that.”  
“Asshat!”

Locus considered scolding Felix for being so loud at such an hour. But then he realised that he had been the one to kick him from the couch that caused the noise. He then realised that Felix’s neighbours would have heard worse.

As much as Locus’ tired mind wanted to uppercut Felix; he hadn’t been wrong. 3am was one hell of a time to wander. The streets were dead and alleyways were lifeless. There were no other souls showing themselves. The lightest of rain misted softly through the air and left chills on Locus’ face. Felix huddled himself into his jumper as they walked. This one also orange but with the words Spoiler Alert: I Don’t Care plastered across it. Felix looked a lot smaller when he was absorbed by fabric. He acted almost childlike; hopping onto small fences and walking along them. Arms out lifted to balance himself and his face screwed up in concentration. When he did land beside Locus, he often left too little of a space between the two of them. A constant brushing of arms and colliding of shoulders. But Locus didn’t mind, he was enjoying the peace of it all. The contrast of the graffiti that made it unintelligible. Rubbish tucked away into every possible corner. The freshness that came with the breeze. The way the neon lights lit up the light sheets of rain.

Rain that slowly turned the foundation on Locus’ face fade and smudge. He wouldn’t have noticed had Felix not have said anything. But he had. He’d stopped the two of them in their path and spent a few too many silent moments gazing at it. Until finally, he lightly moved his fingers down the scar. Locus did his best not to flinch but he did, by instinct, close his eyes. That was until Felix’s touch disappeared and Locus had to restrain himself from chasing the gesture. Felix rubbed the colour between his fingers and whispered,  
“I hope one day you’ll present this art to the world....”

Felix’s eyes quickly snapped back into their smug look and he coughed, pretending as if he had never spoken a word. Locus said nothing, he had no words that would suffice. So they kept onwards. He didn’t know at what point Felix had linked his arm with Locus’. He figured it was something better left unquestioned. So Locus once again glanced up at the twinkling abyss above him. He had learnt an interesting thing about stars. The light took so long to travel from the star to their eyes; there was no way of telling the state of that star at any given moment.   
“You keep glancing up, Locs. The fuck are you looking at?” Felix asked as he crossed his arms, awkwardly tugging Locus’ along with it,   
“The stars...” Locus muttered, being honest. He noticed the one he had been ignoring and, for the first time, he acknowledged it.   
“Oh yeah?” Felix huffed before asking, “which star?”   
Without missing a beat, Locus told him,   
“Sirius...”   
  
So even the brightest of stars pulsating in the night sky could be _long dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, all :)


	15. All In Or All Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix has the answers to the universe, reality disagrees.

**_F E L I X_ **

 

If you were to ask Felix to conduct a personal reflection; every sentence you would get back would tell you in one way or another that he was, in fact, _arrogant_. He’d always had a way of turning and twisting events to make him seem like the better person. The right person. As time began to pass and scenes began to unfold, it had become obvious that he enjoyed being a catalyst. Felix wanted nothing more to be the spark to alight gasoline, the trigger to unleash a bullet, the signature to start a contract. Felix didn’t like change, he liked being the reason for change. With that obsession came said arrogance.

So when Felix had called an emergency meeting at the Enteka blocks because he ‘ _had the answers to the universe_ ’, Locus and Siris had only rolled their eyes and headed over. It was good to see Siris regardless of his state. He was healing, slowly. As was Megan. She had yet to be released from hospital. Something about delayed internal bleeding and reassessment and unscheduled scans. Siris wasn’t specific, if anything he had mumbled the words and tried to change the conversation almost immediately. Felix could see that Locus refused to push, as if he felt it weren’t his place.

If not Locus’ place then whose? Felix couldn’t help but wonder what Siris valued. And who he trusted. A week ago the answer would have been the two of them. Megan’s accident had changed all that. He was more reserved then he had ever been. Considering it had been Siris to bring the two of them together; things were understandably put on edge. Felix only hoped that his idea, his plan, would be able to set things back to being the usual kind of acceptable. The below average kind.

“I’ve figured it out!” The outburst that met Locus and Siris at the front door nearly made them jump. Somehow it could be heard over the thundering music.

 

_Nothing is perfect. Treat myself like an insect. Wrap my life in a web just waiting for the end_

 

Felix gestured they enter with a ridiculous bow of some description. The enthusiasm in his voice was enough evidence that, yes, he had figured something out. What exactly that was, however, was something else entirely.

 

 _Got me feelin' all crashed out._  
I'm your hooker all smacked out.  
In your head you're the landlord, I'm the one paying rent.

 

“Irony is that I doubt Felix actually pays his rent. Or not on time at least.” The joking tone from Siris was a comfort.   
“Oh shit I’m supposed to be paying rent??” Felix snapped before laughing, “yeah, no, fuck you.”

 

_Either you're all in, or all out.  
So get the fuck in babe, or get the fuck out._

 

By some miracle, Felix turned the music down.   
“The world. The universe. All of it. I’m a messenger sent by the gods, to gift you all with the beauty of my intelligence and tactical mind!” Felix’s arms were outstretched and eyes were closed, as if he were really extending his voice to some higher being. Those eyes opened to both Locus and Siris’ disapproving glares.  
“I hate when you do this.” Siris had sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. A pinch of worry hit Locus. Siris didn’t look better but he didn’t look worse either. His tone had been so much more stable then it had been on the night of Camperdown. There was no shake or strain. He was not trembling nor stuttering. He sounded as he always had. Cool, calm, collected and tired of Felix’s bullshit.

“Okay well. Seeing as neither of you will ask about my genius plan. Allow me to tell you.” He paused, waiting for their undivided attention before he slowly said, “Miller. We ask _Miller_.”  
Felix’s expression beckoned understanding but when he received none he screwed his face up. Siris shrugged and Locus didn’t respond even in the slightest.  
“Do I have to spell it out to you two dickwads? My friend, Zachary Miller--”  
“Is a poor tortured soul, if you consider him a friend…” Siris interrupted Felix’s slow paced, satirical spiel with the smallest of smirks on his face.  
“Up yours Wu-”  
“Codenames.”  
“Up yours too Ortez.” Only he followed those angry words with a wink. Siris rolled his eyes once more, “as I was saying… Miller has another contract of Ranier’s. He was running a few at a time, ish, sort of. But. We can take those names, do a little investigating. If any of them have ever wronged Ranier, he’s our victim.”  
Locus didn’t like the way Felix said victim.  
“Okay, alright…” Siris looked deep in thought, “that may just work… we blackmail a target. We don’t get someone who wasn’t already going to die killed… and we get as out of this as we can.”  
“Wait, what?” Felix asked, “you think we’re quitting after this is sorted?”  
Siris exchanged a look between the both of them.  
“In a sense, yes… this isn’t safe. Look at the fuck up we’re in, you guys. This was Ranier.” With each word, Siris’ tone got sharper until it felt like barbed wire.  
“Siris. This is our jobs. And we- well- Locus and I aren’t going off renegade killing people. I don’t think you can blame this on Ranier.”

The silence that fell over the room was the kind of silence that provoked thoughts. Loud, intrusive thoughts. Ones which Locus feared were taking Siris to dangerous places that should be left unprovoked.   
“We can discuss what happens after, after. There is not promise that this idea is even fiable.”  
“My dear Ortez backing me with just as much confidence as ever.” Felix slung an arm over Locus’ shoulders, “man I just… fucking hate your pessimism…”  
Siris didn’t look happy with the answer he had been given.   
“Funny you mention that Siris, because I actually had my eye on another job…”  
Siris automatically assumed the line was a set up,  
“Excuse me?” He asked, already preparing himself for disappointment,  
“Yeah, at like a gun range or something…” Felix’s shrug and tone indicated seriousness.  
“Just because you can shoot a gun doesn’t mean--  
“No I didn’t mean as a shooter, I meant a target.” There it was. “Put a bullet in me.”   
“Oh you wouldn’t need to ask twice.” Siris hissed back.

“Both of you. Quit it.” Locus nearly snapped. His voice just a little offbeat from its regular monotone sound. He took a breath before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Siris if it would make you more comfortable; just Felix and I can organise this. We understand if you want little involvement...”   
“I- I’d appreciate that. Immensely. Thank you. I have to be back at the hospital—“ he checked his watche, “—oh shit, shortly. I should be going.”   
“Be gone then...” Felix then turned to Locus and whispered, “permission to say thot?”  
“Denied.”  
“Man you suck the joy out of everything”

Siris left shortly past that. As he left Locus realised the same same song was playing in the background. Felix either listened to albums or short playlists. For some reason Locus took note of that. One of many that he took regularly. He was far from a people person and part of him thought observation was key to figuring all that out. But in reality, Felix wasn’t the one to be paying attention too. More often then not, he made everything more confusing.

 

 _We're hopeless in hell._  
I'm caught in a meltdown.  
And you have him a junkie for your desperate love.  
Treat me like your voodoo doll.  
You've got me screaming, oh oh.

 

“Well we will have to organise a meet up with Miller somehow...” Locus spoke his thoughts aloud,  
Felix muttered back, “well we better get the messenger pigeon ASAP.”   
The look of confusion that overcame Locus’ face was similar to that of someone... well someone who had been told their cat was a different gender then what they first thought.   
“I mean, I have his fucking phone number. It’s not as if we have to mail him a letter, you make shit so difficult.” Felix scoffed, “I’ll do it right damn now.”

 

_Either you’re all in, or all out. So get the fuck in babe or get the fuck out._

 

So he did call. Clearly Felix had been to Miller’s house before because he drove there without needing a map nor directions. He pulled up to the small place at an obnoxious speed and hopped from the car before Locus had a second to access everything. As he often liked to do. The house was small but neatly kept. It looked like any other house, it certainly didn’t scream ‘I’m a rich criminal’. As Locus joined him on the footpath, Felix turned to look at him and said,  
“This place looks different during the day.” Before winking and making his way to the door. No part of Locus wanted to know exactly what that meant.

Felix rang the doorbell before immediately following up with a loud knock that could have only made his knuckles red.   
“Slow people, honestly.” He scoffed, about to knock again but the door slid open. Behind it; stood the man that Locus could only assume was Miller.   
“Locus, Miller. Miller, Locus. Wow. What an introduction. Utterly riveting. This is the kind of quality content that I stick around for.”  
“Man you really think you’re funny, don’t you?” Miller sighed as he held his hand out to Locus. He took a mere moments hesitation before returning the gesture. Miller had a firmness to his shake; but not enough for Locus to consider it a challenge.   
“He thinks he’s much more then funny....” Locus concurred, shooting his partner a look as Miller welcomed them in. It was neat on the inside too, a lot of white walls and shiny wooden floor planks.   
“Shut the fuck up Ortez. Someone’s fucking gotta appreciate me and it’s sure as shit not your emotionally repressed ass.”   
“It is nice to meet you, finally.” Miller spoke over Felix’s endless complaining, “Felix has told me so much about you. But I was beginning to think just maybe you weren’t real.”   
Locus met Felix’s defensive gaze. What could he possibly have told Miller?   
“All good things, I promise. Well that’s a lie. But he talks a lot, what can you do?”  
“You know how I talk and you don’t listen, Locs? Well Zac here actually does listen.”   
Locus fought the urge to not make the joke. He tried hit utmost. The words won him over,  
“Sorry what was that Felix? I wasn’t listening.”  
Miller snorted an odd laugh that got caught in his throat. Felix’s response, however, was something else entirely to Locus’ expectation. The initial unimpressed stare, yes, but the smile that tugged at his lips was unexpected. Felix actual laughed lightly and looked to Miller,  
“Told you he’s just more then a great piece of ass.”  
Locus was now the one frowning. Although he guessed that he asked for a response like that.

“So what can I do you for?” Miller went straight to the business. A trait Locus appreciated but Felix had other plans.   
“A tenner and you best better take me out to dinner first.”   
“Ohh I’m not taking you out anywhere Felix, not with this one around.” He pointed to Locus before finding his place back on one of the stalls by the kitchen counter. Locus couldn’t quite figure out just what exactly that had meant.   
“We need to know if Ranier has any... any people who don’t appreciate or approve of him or his work.” Locus skipped over the banter but was met with Miller’s blank, blinking gaze.   
“You’re asking me if Ranier, man of all trades, has enemies?” He trailed off, looking at each of them and back, “of fucking course he does. You don’t get into this business without volunteering your right to safety.”  
Felix was thankful that Siris wasn’t with them. A volunteer of safety may have been the final straw for him. Part of him wanted to know what made Siris tick but current events had lead him to one final conclusion. Everything.

“Well we need names. And if you have them, reasons for being a target.” The request came across as more of a demand.   
“I can do that. But if I may ask... why?”  
The look that Felix and Locus exchanged followed by silence was answer enough. “Actually. You don’t need to tell me. I’ll keep my mouth shut. And I assume that I won’t be finishing whichever contract it is that I tell you about?”  
Locus blinked in surprise at the gesture. Until then he had taken Miller to be much too like Felix. But he realised then that he had more honesty.   
“That would be appreciated.” Credit where credit is due, Locus was doing his best attempt at a thanks.   
“As long as this shit doesn’t blow back on me. Ranier is a hell of a guy, I don’t want to be messing around with him. And I definitely don’t want to risk breaking what little trust he has in me. His contracts are quite a bit more interesting then most... I do owe Felix for all this.”   
Triumph washed over Felix’s face as he smirked,   
“You bet your left nut that you owe me. It’s okay I’m sure I’ll find someway of repaying me. I’m open to all suggestions.” He smirked as he sat on the top of the kitchen counter. He held one leg up, resting his chin on his knee and let the other leg dangle freely.   
“Felix, why in the fuck are you sitting on my kitchen counter.”  
Without missing a single beat he shrugged and said,  
“That’s where snacks belong.”  
A moment of painful silence. And then Miller swung out to push him from the surface. Felix fell to the floor with a high pitch cry and crashed into the ground,  
“Listen here Zac, you fucking cuck, I’ll hunt you down.” He moaned from the floor even though no part of him showed any sign of injury.   
“You wouldn’t have to, you prick, you’re in my house holdright now.”  
“A poor ass excuse of a household. If I dare say.”  
“When do you not dare?” Locus muttered, a little tired of their back and forth. Although he would be lying if he said that Felix being pushed from the counter didn’t make him laugh just a tiny bit.

Thoughts seemed to win him over to, his eyes blankly gazing at Felix. Observation was a key part to understanding Felix but it was also a key part in adding to his facade. Genuineness wasn’t something that came naturally to Felix and Locus often found himself wondering, despite the great lengths he spoke, just how much he didn’t say.

There was something about how he and Miller moved past both physical and verbal harassment to discuss the potential victim that made Locus think that he was in the middle of two extremes. One end of the scale was Siris who wanted out. It was clear he was done with all the chaos that was occurring. Frankly, Locus felt bad for him but a part of him didn’t as such. Siris killed those men, in a time of weakness and anger yes but he had killed them. Those men were dead regardless of the manner of their murder. That was fact and Locus worried that if Ranier were ever to find out, those facts would be the only thing he would consider. His empathy was still up in the air, he couldn’t help but wonder just where the line of Ranier’s humanity was drawn in the sand.

But on the other end of that spectrum; Felix. Who seemed to be much too calm about the entirety of the situation. There had been no dramatic change in character. Locus hated subtext but subtext suggested that maybe, just maybe, Felix was actually enjoying all this. Watching the way his lips pulled back into a smile when he joked around and the smugness that had become much more present all lead to the conclusion that Felix’s investment into Ranier’s world was something else entirely. When it came down to it, Felix always had the last word. There was little he wouldn’t say or do if he wanted to say or do it. With Felix he was either all in or all out.

When it came to this new world of crime and chaos;  _Felix was all in._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is My Heart Needs To Breathe- The FAIM. Who aren’t just an amazing band but also the most genuine people I’ve ever met.   
> ~~~  
> So currently I’m overseas in Japan! Updates will be slow, if at all, but I’ll be doing my best. My writing in itself is taking a little longer then I expected. Prior to this trip was full working weeks and I lost a lot of motivation due to stress (not particularly related to the jobs, might I add). I’m... slowly getting back into the swing of things. I’m hoping this trip will kick me back into gear.  
> ~~~  
> Also another huge thanks to Ross for some of the details and jokes in this chapter. Our Lolix chatting always makes my day, thank you for that.


	16. The Haunting of Renegade Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A victim is chosen and a plan is forged.

**_S I R I S_ **

__   
Ryann Myles.    
  
Ryann Myles was to be their victim. A woman in her thirties who had an averaged sized figure hanging above her head. Miller hadn’t been able to explain much. Only that Ranier had been hesitant to give the contract at all. She was difficult to locate, to be frank. She had minimal family, if any, in the city. Her phone was long since deactivated and discarded. But Miller had a lead of sorts.    
  
Slowly he had slid a map over to the three of them during another meeting at the Enteka blocks. It had annotations all over it in silver marker, cursive blending into the background made it difficult to read but they eventually they put the pieces together. Ryann was a pilot by profession. She had been one of the company’s best. Although she’d had notable disagreements with her superior officers which had landed her numerous headlines. She wanted nothing much more then to be a domestic travel pilot but she was being persuaded to move into the army. After the Great War there was a desperation for pilots. And someone of Myles’ status was a perfect fit. But she had since gone awol. Vanished.    
  
What Miller had found was an old aircraft base. Ryann’s first training facility prior to her job. Significant, not too far out and easy to hide in. Everything seemed to match up. Felix had simply put it as,   
“Kill Ryann. Redeem Wu. Not a difficult choice.”    
Locus wasn’t as sure and Siris even less so. Yes the killing of Ryann Myles would put Siris back into the safe books, but for how long? At what point did it come back to bite him in the ass? Would it ever? None of the questions had any useful answers. Only ‘I don’t know’s and ‘well see’s. But Siris wasn’t entirely thrilled at the idea of putting him and his wife’s fate in mere ‘we’ll see’s.    
  
Felix put his foot forward to tell Rainer about their plan. He said it was to protect Siris but he had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had hoped to impressed their new boss. Their new boss who seemed to have Felix’s utmost, respect wasn’t the word, but attention. Ranier’s world was one to marvel at and Felix undeniably had his head below water. Making the call was executed by Felix too, and his tone was one of excitement.    
  
Walking into Ranier’s compound was unfamiliar to Siris, it was a new place further outside town below ground in an old train station. It was dark and smelt of wet rot. Felix had said that it seemed haunted at first, and kept turning his head as if he had expected a train to come thundering through at any point. But this time he walked the empty tunnels as if he owned them. Although he did still turn his head on occasion, whispering something about wind flow and drafts from trains.    
“Imagine if we saw one, Sammy.” Felix nudged his shoulder, nodding to a guard who he had passed,   
“Codenames.” Locus nearly slapped him, “and saw what?”   
“A ghost train!”    
“A ghost... what?”   
“Train. You fucking dolt. It goes choo choo and all that bullshit.” Felix had jumped onto the train tracks, doing his best to balance himself. Siris has said nothing but followed behind the two of them. One foot over one side of the rail, one foot on the other. He shook his head at their bickering but found himself smiling at their outrageous insults. The insisting that, yes, Locus did in fact know what a train was but he was struggling to grasp the ghost aspect of it.   
  
The argument was called to an abrupt stop when Felix’s foot got caught in the track and he lost his balance. A quick squeal of surprise and before Siris could do anything he fell onto Locus who also toppled. Siris found himself staring at the two of them, entangled on the floor, and rolling his eyes.    
“You two are children.” He told them,   
“Oh fuck off Wu.” Felix rolled himself over to sit up. Although he did accept a hand up. Brushing the dust from his orange jeans, he cursed at himself, “ah fuck I got dirt on my pants! And... blood?”    
Felix looked down to Locus and offered him a hand. He did accept, although after a notable hesitation.    
“Yes. My face is bleeding...” Locus muttered, pulling a tissue from his pocket and moving to gently dab at the graze.  Felix’s snatched it from him and leant up to do it himself. Muttering something about no way that Locus would be able to get the right place and that he’d probably make it worse. To which Locus mentioned the entire leg gunshot wound which shut Felix up quite quickly. Siris watched the two of them, astounded by their interactions with one another. He had time to adjust to them but no matter what happened, he always found himself somewhat surprised.    
“No gravel in it?” Siris broke the strange and awkward silence that lingered between the two of them.    
“Don’t believe so.” And in a moment of utter confusion, Siris watched as Felix pushed himself up on his toes to lightly kiss the wound. Both Locus and Siris had screwed their faces up, “sometimes you just gotta kiss a wound better, ya know?”   
  
Before he could be asked anymore, Felix had turned and left. Siris followed momentarily, only to pass Locus who was still stood stopped in his tracks. Instinct told Siris to make a joke or nudge him onwards but once Siris looked into Locus’ eyes he found himself unable to do so. He was watching Felix intently. But the expression Locus had was something much more profound then mere confusion. It was as if he wanted the why. Eventually he tore his eyes away to look at Siris who could only really say one thing as he looked at the blood welling on Locus’ forehead.    
“Beats me.”   
And Locus seemed to accept that answer.    
  
They both failed to catch up to Felix before he entered Ranier’s office. And his entrance was of no greetings.    
“So we’ve been looking into the history of a woman who could potentially have executed the attack on your people...?” Felix said with the most straight-to-business tone that Locus had ever heard. He’d clasped his hands together as he approached Ranier’s desk, followed by Locus and Siris who had only silently followed.    
“You have my attention.” Ranier gritted his teeth at the mention of the attack. His rusty voice had turned acidic.    
“We found some photos from a security camera on the street. We matched the face up with a woman by the name of Ryann Myles. She was a pilot but now is missing. We think this is a return statement, of sorts...”    
They anxiously awaited for any sign from Ranier. Anything at all. But he was so stone-dead blank that it was impossible to read his expression.    
“A return statement?” He repeated, slowly before turning to Locus, “do you agree with your partner?”   
Locus did not much more then nod. But he turned to Siris too,   
“And you agree?”   
Siris looked into Ranier’s eyes. They were challenging but Siris steadied himself. Anxiety clawed at his stomach. He felt as if he were being torn from the inside out. But with a still voice he said with clarity and confidence,   
“I’m sure that Myles did this.”    
Siris was getting better at lying to Ranier.    
  
Ranier pressed his lips together and after a few agonising seconds of silence he said,   
“It would make sense. She and I have a history.”    
The three of them recoiled in the slightest,    
“So this was a specific attack?” Felix was possibly playing up the unintelligent card a bit much but Ranier was too much in thought to notice, “we had assumed it was a comeback statement. Hits to both you and the rest of Lozano’s men? It’s a bold move.”   
“Yes she and I... had relations. In my more renegade days I made the mistake of becoming involved more personally.”   
“She’s a threat to you because you...?”   
“If you’re going to say ‘slept with her’ then no, it’s a long story and one I hoped wouldn’t come back to haunt me. I guess some things you just can’t escape...”   
  
They were flooded with silence. Siris could hear his heart thundering in his chest. There was hatred for the adrenaline in his veins. He shouldn’t have been as anxious as he was. But he was. He’d just framed an innocent woman. A part of him wondered just how far he was willing to go.    
“We need a plan of attack if I’m going to supply this operation correctly.” Ranier spoke up eventually.    
“Well while you two sort all this out, allow me to gander at your personal stuff, Ranier...” Felix announced, turning to look at what had become Ranier’s new office. Covered in boards and posters, littered with notes and maps. But he wasn’t dumb. None of that would mean anything to Ranier. It seemed to be once facade after another. Ranier watched Felix wander and huffed with the smallest of smiles.    
  
“We have found an old aircraft base. It’s a few hours out but it’s possible to get there. With difficulty, that is. But if we are to—“    
“He’s screaming for your attention.” Ranier interrupted Locus’ explanation. Locus froze, blinking slowly. Siris didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he had difficulty tuning it out.    
“Excuse me?” Locus eventually asked. Ranier’s eyes flickered to look behind Locus who turned to find the target. It was Felix who was lingering around the pin up board. His eyes scanning words, his arms crossed in front of his chest.    
“Everything about him is screaming for your attention.” Ranier muttered, to which Locus only looked doubtful. “No, I’ve seen it myself. Eye contact is something you get to know in this field. And his...” Ranier trailed off, cocking his head and narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to find a summary.    
“He doesn’t look me in the eyes often.” Locus admitted, Siris couldn’t help but wonder just where Rainer was taking the point.    
“Exactly. I’ve noticed that he looks everyone directly in the eyes. Searching for a meaning, a facade, an agenda. He looks for lies and expects betrayals. But with you, he doesn’t need to.” Ranier had found his words, “it’s as if he doesn’t have to search you for any of that. Whether that’s a conscious decision or not...”    
Locus frowned before looking back over his shoulder to Felix. His fingers were tracing the older papers, following the lines he was reading.    
“Doesn’t mean he’s... ‘screaming for my attention’.” Locus turned back to the papers before him but was distracted as Ranier laughed lightly.    
“Oh my boy, you must be blind. He’s been looking at you more today then he ever has...” Locus let his curiosity get to him  and, sure enough, when he looked over he met Felix’s eyes. Felix looked away quickly, as if it had never even happened.    
  
Ranier had only playfully hit Locus in the shoulder just before he made a quick acknowledgement to Siris,   
“Don’t you agree?”   
He jumped slightly, “sorry, I uh wasn’t listening. Like to keep my ears open for when I’m on recon.”   
Ranier shook his head slightly with a grin on his face,   
“You’re a good man Siris.”    
His stomach felt like it was being churned at by acid, his heart ached in disappointment. Fearful he had become what he hated. A liar.    
  
That feeling gnawing at him only continued to get worse. Each meticulously planned step was being made by an entirely gilt ridden man. Their plan to get to the base, getting through what was once a monitored area, the possibility of alarms that could still be activated or had since been reactivated, then it came to the kill itself. If Ryann was able to kill all those men, then she must have guards. Protection. Anything of the sort. Of course in reality, she didn’t. She was no murderer, she hadn’t killed those men. She had no men of her own. This was known information and yet they had to pretend that everything they were discussing was real. Felix played much too well into the part. He assured Ranier of all his doubts and let him know that they were confident in their ability to ‘take her out’.    
  
Siris didn’t have that same confidence. They could kill one woman, yes, but it was everything else that made him unsure. The image of Megan littered with wounds was imprinted on the underside of his eyelids. Closing his eyes was difficult and if they were often closed for too long, he would see all those men that he had killed for her. No, for him. It had been his choice, his hands and he knew that Megan wouldn’t have wanted their blood on her hands. She was better then that. But Siris doubts’ weren’t better then that and he couldn’t be the one to kill Ryann.    
  
“If I’m on recon, I shouldn’t go into the building.” He spoke up, interrupting their conversation. Locus’ eyes were the first he met, and they knew. Understanding was something Locus was often up and down with. That which was usually understood, he’d often miss. And that which was complex, he would know. Those grey eyes could see him for who he was. They could see that he didn’t want to add another tally to his kill count. The nod that followed helped ease Siris’ fears. Felix looked less certain. With a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes he looked as if he were to resist. But then he looked at Locus and something changed. Hesitating, he agreed,   
“The two of us will be quicker inside, I think that’ll work.”    
  
If Ranier had any doubts then he didn’t voice them. Merely nodding, he moved on. Siris couldn’t help but feel the weight of the entire contract on his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I return from my Japan trip! I'm sick, sleep deprived and beyond ecstatic to have been there for two weeks. It was truly gorgeous but it's time I return to my normal life routine... starting with an update!


	17. Contracts and Their Definitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Point A is reached. One of two objectives complete.

**_L O C U S_ **

  
Siris has been the one who had volunteered to drive to Point A. It was a spot about half an hour from the air base on foot. They had to trek through a forest before arriving at the outermost border of the air base. The cold had hit them the second they jumped from the car. It was almost irritatingly cold on that morning. Siris had said it was much too cold to do a contract. Well, they had called it contract. Felix had preferred to use the term ‘assassination’. It just seemed to suit him better, roll off the tongue easier. Locus wasn’t as sure. Assassinations made them assassins and that, well, Locus hadn’t signed up for that.    
“What a crisp morning for an assassination.”   
“Contract. Gates. It’s a contract.” Locus looked to the flowers blooming in between the cracks in the road. The same beautiful, invasive ones on his street corner.    
“Oh shit, did you just refer to me by my name?? Alert the authorities.” Felix kicked at the small amount of snow that was clustering around the gutter before melting into the stream of icy water and disappearing down the drain. “But fuck a hooker up the clacker, is it cold or what??”   
Locus had frowned when he had seen Felix’s attire. Proper contract gear, yes, but not much more to it. Felix did have extra layers, Locus had been sure of it, but he had seemingly decided that today was not cold enough for those layers. That was, until he had actually stepped outside.    
“Dude I have nipples that could cut glass.”   
“ _ Dude _ . You’re unbelievable.” Siris frowned, checking his gun over as they walked towards their pick up point.    
“Here take this.” Locus shrugged one of his jacket off and handed it to Felix who looked at it with curiosity.    
“Oh you’re a gentleman, aren’t you?“ Felix shifted to be in front of Locus. He helped Felix thread his arms through each sleeve and stepped back to make sure that the jacket fitted him.    
  
It didn’t.    
  
But Locus didn’t need to point that minor detail out. He found it endearing somehow. As if small Felix in that big jacket was something worth smiling about. He didn’t of course, he didn’t respond at all.    
“I joke but, uh...” Felix was folding the sleeves to bundle by his wrists, “thanks man.” There was a smile there. Small but present.    
“Can’t have you freezing on a contract.” Locus murmured,    
“I wouldn’t freeze. Takes more then the wind to get me.”    
“Yes. You would. There’s nothing to you.” Locus observed. Something which he wasn’t known for doing, “—wait come here, the hood is all folded into itself...”   
Felix moved to stand in front of Locus and, strangely, he felt Felix lean into him. With arms still crossed and gaze set on the far distance, he didn’t appear to be entirely aware of his own movement. Locus’ stomach skin started to crawl in a way which he wouldn’t describe as unpleasant.    
  
He had felt that strange feeling before. A cheek on his palm. A hand on his waist. An arm linked with his. A kiss to his wound. Every move Felix was making was unpredictable. The conscious aspect of it wasn’t something Locus was able to analyse. Even more so that Felix stayed leant into him even after the hood had been readjusted. Looking up and over his shoulder at Locus, a smile crossed Felix’s face as he asked,   
“Ready for this assassination, Sammy?”   
Locus frowned and corrected his partner,   
“Contract. Codenames.“    
“Yes Sir.” Felix exaggerated a salute which was inevitably ruined by the size of Locus’ jacket.    
  
Siris had parked the car in an old, abandoned parking lot. The forest bordered it so it was only a quick jump of a fence before their hike began. Thirty minutes wasn’t too long. The plan was for Siris to get them there, find himself a spot to set up and observe the building from the outside. No tricks, no ambushes, nothing unaccounted for. A part of them were accounting for the possibility that Ryann may not even be in the country, never mind this oddly placed aircraft base. Felix had simply smiled and said,   
“The gods haven’t abandoned us yet gentlemen, I have faith.”    
To which Siris retorted with,   
“No they certainly didn’t cast the two of you into one of the most horrific wars we have ever seen and consistently plagued our lives with death and destruction.” He gave a quick thumbs up, “and besides Felix, if there is a god, he is sending you straight to hell...”    
“Oh undoubtedly for I have sinned. Not once, not twice, but with every choice I’ve ever made.”   
  
Locus trailed behind Felix and Siris behind the both of them. Every part of Locus knew his focus was to be on the contract and only the contract. But he found himself being distracted by the scenery around him. Skeletons of trees in the darkest shades of brown being decorated by clumps of snow. The ground seemingly airbrushed with the white powder. There was a light crunch to each step. Not from leaves nor sticks but from the light layers of snow. The terrain was difficult to read on the map that Siris had handy. Often the snow would be covering noticeable landmarks. It became even more difficult to read, however, once Felix had taken the map and said it was for ‘people who weren’t directionally challenged’. What that meant was a mystery to him.    
  
Most of the walking was done in silence. The occasional call of a bird or snap of a stick. The crunch of snow beneath a boot or the whistle of the wind. But on occasion there would be talk. Meaningless chatter or irrelevant banter. Snow melted as it flowed into the creek before them. It would come trickling down from the trees only to instantly melted at the touch of the water.    
“I—“ Siris began to speak but he didn’t get further then a single word before he realised that he didn’t know what it was he wanted to say. His consciousness told him that he had to say something. Words were only the start of explaining his appreciation. “I just want to thank you two.”    
As soon as he said it, he realised how pathetic it sounded. So much for the grandiose thanks he had intended.    
“What for?” Felix asked, pressing his foot lightly against a rock in the water. Testing its sturdiness, he decided it was safe to take a step.    
“Well, for all of this.” Siris shrugged, standing behind Locus in wait to jump the creek.    
“For framing a woman who we barely know? Sure, all in a day’s work.” Felix took a step onto the next rock. Turning to hold his hand out to Locus who hesitantly took his hand. Siris rolled his eyes at Felix’s quip.    
“I guess for that, yeah. But you could say in a better way. Like. Thank you for protecting Megan and I.”    
“I know, I know.” Felix watched as Locus stepped onto the rock, “careful Locs, that one is a bit tricky.”   
“Mhm thanks.” Locus furrowed his brow at the rock that shook slightly and splashed water up onto his shoes. “Siris there’s no need for a thank you. We’re partners.”   
  
Felix hopped onto the ground on the other side of the creek. His shoes covered in snowy mud but clean other then that. Pressing his feet into the ground, he offered Locus his hand again. Which, although he wouldn’t admit it, Locus was thankful for. The grip Felix had on him provided stability that the rocks lacked.    
“Speaking of...” Siris trailed off as Locus reached the bank. They both turned to look at him who had his eyes downcast, “I’m not sure how much longer I can work as a bounty hunter.”   
“Wu I swear to fuc—“ Felix started before Locus stopped him,   
“Felix. Hear him out.”    
The anger in Felix’s eyes was almost ignited in pure flame.    
“I just...” he jumped onto the first rock, “I made that call to kill all those men. And surely sometime soon, if this isn’t the flawless plan we thought it was, it’s gonna bite me in the ass. And if that’s the case then Megan and I can’t stay. Somewhere, somehow, someone from Amnesia has threatened my wife.” He jumped again. “And that I can’t just ignore...”    
He was met on the bank by Locus’ solemn expression and Felix’s rage.    
“So, what, we kill Ryan for you and then? You abandon us? Disappear to some peaceful life? Work in a greenhouse and plant fucking flowers all day..?!”    
“Abandon is a little harsh Gates—“   
“Oh really? Well I think it’s perfectly reasonable.” Felix had turned his back to the both of them and had begun walking again. All insults were being yelled over his shoulder. “Imagine us disagreeing.”    
It was only once Felix started walking that Locus realised that he still had his hand. And in the rage that Felix had become absorbed in, he had let it go. Locus couldn’t help but notice that his palm felt cold.    
  
“Felix.” Locus’ tone growled,   
“Fucks sake Isaac.” Siris hissed to himself, following him closely behind although slipping more on the ice beneath his feet.    
“The both of you need to take a second to remember where we are.” Locus called after them, “on contract. Working. This is not the time for arguments. Are we straight?” Locus drawled, fists tightening in frustration.    
“You‘re a straight up bitch... does that count?” Felix muttered back at him.    
“Uhm, Felix, straight?” Siris scoffed.    
“The fuck does that mean Wu...?” Felix scoffed, looking offended before smiling and winking, “I joke.”    
“No you don’t. Jokes are funny.”    
“Up yours—“   
“Are. We. Straight?” Locus repeated himself. Instinct made him look to Felix first who was, surprisingly, already looking at him dead in the eye. Locus swore he saw an unfamiliar expression for Felix in that gaze. It was almost a look of pain.    
“Yes.” He said bitterly before taking a breath and calmly saying, “yes. I get you Wu. Family first. Now let’s get the fuck over to Point A.”    
  
Point A was apparently on the other side of a much steeper ridge then they were expecting. But from the top, Siris definitely would have had a good view of the area. The compound itself was outlined by a ridiculously high fence covered in curls of barbed wire. Metal which had long since rusted and begun weeping. Everything was overgrown and being held together by plants. Some vivid shades of green decorated the bland concrete but everything else was unbelievably dreary. Greys and dark browns interwoven with shades of green from blooming moss and algae.    
“Kind of looks like your wasteland...” Siris had commented.    
“Well our wasteland doesn’t have a building like that in the middle of it.”    
In between the launching pads which had long since been used was a towering building which was suffering from water damage. Stains of brown wet rot trickled from the window sills and landed in growing puddles in the pavement. Felix stepped forward, holding his hand out to take a pistol from Locus, “Let’s get this assassination underway...”   
“Contract.” Locus corrected as he handed the firearm over.    
“Well then,” Siris took a breath, “It’s just the two of you from here... good luck.”


	18. Invasive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for Ryann Myles begins.

**_F E L I X_ **

“I’m sorry, but...” Felix wasn’t ever sorry when he started sentences like that, “I can’t help but think that when Siris said that it was ‘ _just the two of us_ ’, he wasn’t just talking about just this contract in this moment.”   
Well Locus considered himself damned, maybe Felix did have something meaningful to say. So much so that Locus wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to it.   
“It’s just us now, isn’t it?”   
Although he had been taking the lead, his footsteps had slowed to a stop. The doubt in Felix’s eyes nearly made Locus lie. The word ‘ _no_ ’ was so close to escaping his lips. It was the sharp breath that convinced him otherwise,   
“Yes Isaac.”   
Felix pressed his lips together and his eyes almost immediately downcast. “He will be alright.” The mutter was no consolation. “Megan is lucky to have him. He’s not just in this for the money.”   
“A-are you?” Locus couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. Lips twitched to talk but Felix kept his silence. Eyes downcast once more.   
“ _No._ We need to move.”   
  
Talking was both Felix’s strong suit and weak point. On one hand he loved to talk and often would irritate people by doing so. He was a people person however and with being a people person came the ability to get whatever he wanted. On the other hand he was utterly hopeless when it came to reality and the emotions that came with it. Felix would try to shrug off Wu’s choice and Locus didn’t know how to help him. So instead, he said the first thing that came to his head.   
“Why have you been screaming for my attention?”   
The words left his mouth before he could register that maybe, just maybe, he should have rephrased it. The freeze in Felix’s movements, the turn to face Locus and the expression on his face showed an immediate confusion,   
“I’ve been... what?”   
Locus took a sharp breath, decided not to quote Ranier to the exact.   
“Your behavior. You’ve been looking at me. Why?”   
Felix looked taken aback. More interestingly, he looked called out. Almost as if he was being pulled into a spotlight.   
“You’ve been annoying me and I’m trying to figure out my best angle of attack—“ Felix raised his hand to trail too finger along Locus’ throat. As if he were pretending to decapitate him. Locus caught his hand, held it there, stared him dead in the eyes.   
“Why?” Locus growled, he watched as the annoyance in Felix’s eyes was replaced with empathy.   
“Because all of this is chaos. And I want to be sure that you’re not going to up and leave just like Wu is gonna. You’ve been a constant in my life you fucking idiot, I just want to know where you stand with all of this...” he threw his arms out into the air in emphasis before dropping them to his sides and whispering, “where are you?”   
“I..” Locus was overwhelmed by Felix’s honestly, “I’m right here with you.”   
There was something he wanted to add resting on the top of his tongue. It simmered there for a second as Locus watched rogue flakes of snow drift into Felix’s hair. It was then that the words were found,   
_“Always and forever.”  
_   
Ample opportunity for satire and quips had presented itself and yet Felix held his tongue. He nodded, the smallest of understanding expressions passing over his face but he turned before it bloomed into much else. Locus could only follow his lead in silence.   
  
The base was unbelievably complex. Levels upon levels upon levels both above and under the ground. There was a traffic control tower on the far side of the base and entire separate building for sleeping quarters. It was there that they connected their earpieces and made contact with Siris,   
**“No movement from the perimeter.”**   
“Copy.” Both Locus and Siris said in unison.   
“Ok.” Stopping dead in his tracks, Felix spun around to face Locus, “if you were a woman who was a great pilot but was being coerced into possible army enlisting so you ran away only to be revenge stalked by a man with a limp... where would you be...?”   
Blinking was the only response Locus had to that one.   
“My gut tells me, she’s North.”   
“Your gut isn’t a compass.”   
“It is now. Tick tick bitch.”   
“Compasses don’t exactly tick—“   
“Locs, I swear to Christ.”   
“Felix, offer a real suggestion.”   
The two of them looked at the compound before them. Staring out at the blandest of buildings and tried to decipher a puzzle they weren’t even sure existed.   
“Obvious spots?” Felix asked,   
“Her old sleeping quarters. The control tower.” The observation by Locus was quick and efficient. But Felix’s obvious meant along the lines of; what would be _too_ obvious   
“Above ground. Not smart-”   
“-then she’s below the surface.” Locus finished his sentence. That would only leave the bunker which Felix had insisted as describing as ‘monstrous’. Which it frankly was.

Once they managed to break in through a door with a padlock that had less rust then expected, Locus couldn’t help but agree. Corridors and corridors of slate grey nothing decorated with doors to rooms which hadn’t been touched in years. Spiderwebs draped from the roof in such a thick blanket that they had collected dust of their own and had turned bronze. Most webs were littered with small spider corpses dangling and dancing in the stale smelling drafts.   
“Look.” Felix moved his torch along and down the floor of the main corridor. He moved it in a perfectly straight line to illuminate the ground. Highlighting the difference between dust and grime settlements proved a worthy suggestion that there was _someone_ in the complex. Or there _had_ been. Which was somewhat less comforting but it was a lead of sorts.  
Their progress was almost immediately haltered by a change in layout. Corridors didn’t match up, room numbers made minimal sense, it was if they were in the wrong place altogether.

By the time an hour rolled by; Felix was considering just _saying_ that Ryann was dead. Which was an unbelievably persistent ‘god no’ from Siris. The idea had turned into an argument of sorts with less aggression than usual. Locus assumed Felix was just glad to be out in the field again. No longer under house arrest. To which Locus received a elbow to the ribs and a wink from Felix who promptly said,  
“Damn fuckin’ right I’m not!” He went back to shining his torch around the graffiti covered walls, “honestly I’d _much_ rather be in an abandoned aircraft base then the shit hole which is the Enteka blocks.”  
Locus had _questions_ to say the least. There was obviously no sense of pride in the Enteka blocks for Felix. And he did have fair amount of money. Just exactly why he hadn’t moved or purchased his own place was beyond a mystery. Locus’ expression must have given his thoughts away to the exact syllable as Felix muttered,  
“I’m saving my money for something special.” A frown from Locus was apparently a  segue to an explanation, “no I don’t know exactly what that is. I’ll know it when I see it.”  
**“What in the hell could that possibly be?!”** Siris chimed in over the comms, **“a cinema?”**  
“Mhm too common. Think bigger!” Felix laughed lightly, a hand stretching up to weave his fingers between the thinnest hanging cobwebs.  
“A cinema screen the size of a billboard.” Locus may have taken the statement too literally but Felix’s face lit up regardless.  
“Oh fuck yes Sammy!” He nudged Locus in the shoulder, hand out stretching to run his fingers lightly through Locus’ hair, “I love when you use this head of yours.”  
Felix’s hand lingered a second too long, his eyes too. Locus found himself a little thrown off, he didn’t even feel the need to remind Felix about codenames. Felix did quickly move his hand back before smirking and announcing,  
“Locs has given me an idea, Siris. A TV the size of a billboard.”  
**“I fear the movies that will be played on that billboard…”  
** “Uhh, Point Break! Is that even a question?!” Felix grinned, “and the original, not that reboot shit.”

Felix did insist on spending the next hour talking about the ‘atrocities of remakes’. Exactly how the conversation turned from a reboot to remakes hadn’t phased Locus. But he had ended up in that situation regardless. Felix claimed that the number of remakes was disgusting and franky an insult to the original creation. Reboots and spin offs? Adored by him. But remakes? Oh he had a few things to say about that. _Society’s standards have fallen,_ he said _, first the Great War and then a lack of original storylines._ It was almost as if Locus could _hear_ Siris rolling his eyes from the other side of the headset.

Siris was annoyed to discover that the blueprints of the complex were pre-renovation and therefore not entirely as useful as they had hoped they would be. Another half an hour drifted past and Siris has resorted to just saying room names and hoping that Locus or Felix could see it through the mass of grime and cobwebs. It got to the point where Siris merely sounded like he was reading out a list,  
**“A103? A104? Office 47? A05?...”  
** On and on and on until Felix decided he’d list things too,  
“Psycho. Annie. Point Break. Friday 13th. _Oh my god_. Do you know which remake really deserves to rot in hell?! Live action Kim Possible.”  
**“Are you still on that, Felix?”** Siris sighed, he sounded pained.  
“Yes I am! Because, I’ll have you know, I couldn’t give two shits about rooms that I can’t even see??”  
“‘Mhm Office 47 is here…?” Locus muttered as he shone his torch on letters which were barely readable. “But no rooms with A? Siris do you know what the A stands for?”  
“Asshole. Because whoever designed this building is a fucking asshole.”

Although they struggled to pinpoint _exactly_ what A stood for, Felix did start betting against it. Considering his only real bet was on _‘asshole’_ it was clear that he was becoming restless. Siris offered _‘airbase’_ which was followed by Locus suggesting _‘aerodrome’_ . Felix had squinted at him through the dark before shining the light directly into Locus’ eyes.   
“Nerd.”   
“Excuse me?”   
“Why do you know fancy names for air bases?”   
Locus merely shrugged. Felix’s eye narrowed.   
“Say it again...”   
“What?”   
_“Say it again.”_   
“Aerodrome.”   
Felix squinted again and fell silent,   
**“What’s wrong with that, Felix?”  
** “Oh nothing's wrong…” His steps hadn’t slowed, “it’s just hot.”  
**“Focus for fucks sake.”**

Felix had reached a point of no focus. A third hour was ticking by and they hadn’t found much more than a difference in dust levels on the floor. He had lost his motivation to properly hold his stance, to check every corner. It was that exact choice that lead to their downfall. Once they rounded a corner no different to any of the other corners without as much precaution, it was as if the universe was making a mockery of them.  
“And who in fresh hell are you two?” There was a gun between Felix’s eyes before either of them could say a word. Locus had his pistol up at the figure in a split second.   
“Well fuck me dead.” Felix rolled his eyes, “you really are here.”   
“I asked you a question. Answer it.” The woman speaking had a deep tone. Had Felix and Locus been more susceptible to threats then they would have considered her manner to be a challenge.   
“She’s a feisty one, Locs.” Felix smirked down the barrel of the gun, “I like that.”   
“I asked you a question.” She repeated. Locus took a second to analyse the stand off. Who he could only assume was Ryann had a gun square between Felix’s eyes. And he, himself, had his to the side of her head. Slowly, Felix had raised his hands in surrender.   
“Well this here is Locus, I’m Felix, and we are here to complete a job of sorts...”   
“I asked you a question.” She repeated with gritted teeth.   
“And I answered it sweetie.” Even at the wrong end of a gun he was smug.   
“I asked who you were. You gave me names. That means nothing to me.”  
  
She did seem like the kind of person who could be a threat to Ranier. Felix couldn’t help but wonder just why he had a reward over her head. She was only just smaller then Felix in height. Her skin had a sickly tone to it and her eyes were bagged beyond belief. She truly had been there for a while, undeniably wasting away. Her bloodshot brown eyes flickered to Locus as she spat,  
”Down or I shoot him.”   
“Oh come on, there’s no need for this.” Felix smirked again, catching a nudge from the barrel to his temple.   
“There’s need when you’re trespassing and avoiding answering questions. Down or I shoot him!”  
“You keep repeating your lines, you really should come up with some new content.”  
Felix was certainly pushing it.   
“Down or I shoot him.” Her eyes screamed a promise and once her finger moved to the trigger, Locus dropped his gun.   
“Alright.” It hit the floor with a clack.   
“She wasn’t really going to sho—“  
The gun fired.   
  
“Motherfucker!!” Felix tripped backwards, hitting the floor. Locus didn’t even think about reacting, he was by Felix’s side in a fraction of a second.   
“I dropped the gun.” Locus hissed at her, desperately looking over Felix for the wound.   
“He kept talking.”   
“And now I don’t intend to stop, you bitch.” With a strained voice, Felix still managed to be his usually charming self. Pushing himself upright was no issue so Locus went to checking Felix’s chest and arms for any sign of a bullet wound.   
“Are you hit?” Locus asked, face mere centimetres from Felix’s,  
“Yeah... she got my arm.” The words were hushed but laced in pain. Sure enough there was a shot wound which had taken out a reasonable portion of skin. Felix already had one hand over it and was doing his best to keep pressure on it. Blood was trickling between his fingers as Locus took his hand and slowly peeled it away,  
“I’m good.” Felix wasn’t sure why he was whispering but he felt as if it were necessary. His lips brushing Locus’ ear.   
  
“Now. Tell me who you are?”  
“Bounty hunters.” Locus frowned as he felt Felix’s blood drip between his fingers,  
“And you, Ryann, have a decent figure above your head.” Felix was quick to snap at her.   
“Figure?” She repeated in thought, “oh he’s finally made his move, has he?”   
Felix left the silence in tact for the first time, it was open for comment. Or, more preferably, context.   
“Ranier is a man of efficiency. So as to why he hadn’t killed me yet has been an utter mystery.”  
“We don’t care about your backstory, Ryann.” Felix cocked his head, “we only know your price.”  
“Oh and Ranier wouldn’t have told you either, I imagine? For someone who uses a lot of words, he doesn’t exactly say much. Does he? Or haven’t you noticed that yet? Too wrapped up in your own world of wealth and the thrill of the chase? You’re nothing but adrenaline seeking scum.“  
Neither of them had expected her rant but it had given them a perfect opportunity.  
“Now.” Felix whispered and in an instant, Locus swung his leg out and swept her from her feet. She buckled to the ground and hit the back of her head on the concrete. The gasp that left her mouth was enough to indicate that she would have been dazed.   
  
Felix had the gun in hand first and he stood with it pointed down at her. Finger already on the trigger,  
“Gotta say, Ryann... this whole hiding out in an old aircraft base is a hell of a flair for the dramatic.” Felix laughed, “I mean really, our Ranier spooked you that bad?”  
“Look. We didn’t know who Ranier was at the time. I could only imagine our very public argument had put me right in the spotlight. So I came here and I hid. It worked until now.” She narrowed her eyes at all of them, realising just how much they _weren’t_ following the story, “wait a second... what did they tell you my name was?”  
Felix frowned slightly,  
“Ryann Myles.”   
She laughed. Although she had frozen for a second she followed it with a laugh that could only be described as ominous. She began to stand from the ground, unsteady on her feet. Blood dripped from her matted hair, she was much more than merely grazed.   
“Oh that crafty son of a bitch. My maiden name is Ryann Myles, my current name is Ryann Williams. I’m married to James Williams.”   
  
Their worlds started spinning. Connections were being formed. Relations that had never even been considered possible became real.   
“James Williams... the Amnesia employee?” Locus whispered,  
“Yes. That’s the one.” Ryann’s hands were slowly raised in surrender but her tone threatened much more than that,  
“Present tense.” Felix muttered,  
**“What?”** Siris asked through comms, only to be echoed by Locus.  
“She spoke about James in present tense. She doesn’t know.”  
The look in Ryann’s eyes was one that Locus could physically _feel_ in his stomach. He felt sick, nauseous, as if he were swallowing acid. Those eyes screamed for context,  
“James is dead.” She asked, narrowing eyes that begun to grow red.  
“Yes. He died in hospital from…” Locus looked to Felix, trying to figure out exactly which story he was going to following, “asphyxiation.”

Another lie. Just one on top of the other.

“I don’t imagine Ranier would have been quiet about that, huh?” Her words confused the both of them. It hit Locus that if she didn’t know about James’ passing; _why bring it up in the first place?_  
“Why would be have been?” Locus asked. She said nothing. And before Felix could, well, probably break her kneecaps Locus asked a different question. “What does James have to do with Ranier at all? And what relations did you have with Ranier?”   
“Marcus and I had nothing.“ the tears didn’t breach her eyelids. A question bugged at Locus,   
“Do you know anyone by the name of Megan Wu or Mason Wu?” Locus had to know. If yes, then there was a chance that the crash could have been intentional. And maybe, just maybe, Siris had been right to kill those men.   
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”   
“Oh enough of this bullshit!” Felix snapped, “none of this makes any fucking sense, are you listening to her Locs. She’s fucking grasping for a story.”   
Felix flicked a knife from his pocket and held it to her throat. With an uncalled for suddenness, Felix pushed the pistol into Locus’ chest.   
“Shoot her.”   
Ryann looked defensive at the end of the gun. If anything, she moved closer to it. Beckoning at the gun as if she knew it would ultimately be what ended her life.  
“If you’re going to kill me now-“  
“Ryann. Shut up. Locus. Shoot her.” Felix hissed again in utter defiance.  
“ _Felix_ .”   
“Locs, this is our fucking get away free card. It’s her or Mace and Megan. And if it’s Mace and Megan then it also becomes Sammy and Isaac. Fucking pull the trigger.”   
The thing that life threw at people was the importance of choice. Some were more important choices then others. Some were clearer choices then others. It’s the subjectivity of choices that change their meaning. It’s believed that no choice can be made purely from an objective standpoint. So when Locus pulled that trigger, had he done it out of choice? Subjective human choice? He didn’t know. All he knew was that it felt like the war again. Alike to the Great War; Locus only knew which side he was on depending on where Felix stood. And to him, the look in Felix’s eyes made it all worth it. By some means, Felix made the shot feel justified. 

Felix made the shot feel _riveting_ .   
  
So much so that everything after that mostly blurred out of memory. Locus could remember being lead out of the compound and out into the cold with Siris yelling on the other end of the line.   
**“Is she dead??”** He asked, **“Felix, Locus, is she dead?”** Locus could remember the sting of snow on his face. What he couldn’t remember, was just why or how they had ended up around the wrong corner of the side of the building. Locus seemed to wake up then, as if on cue. As if the sudden realisation of their closeness woke him up. Felix had moved his hands to Locus’ earpiece and taken it out, tossing it to the ground before he tore his own from his ear and discarded it with the other. 

“F-Felix..?” Locus felt _dazed_ , as if he weren’t in his own body. His eyes were fixated on the earpieces in the snow. Static noise escaped it as Siris continued to press on with his questions, unknowing that they couldn’t hear him. A hand moving his his jaw awoke him from his out of body experience. Felix was moving his jaw so they were looking at each other.   
“...I saw that look, Locus. I saw that change in your eyes.” In the closeness that Felix was creating made it easy to see the blood on Locus. Scuffs of crimson wiped across his forehead, splatter marks and drop stains decorating his pale skin. Felix would’ve lied if he didn’t say he was hypnotised by the way the light rippled off the surface of it.   
“You can’t tell me Locus that that didn’t feel really... really... fucking… new and…” he trailed off to whisper the word, “ _exciting_ …”

Locus wanted to say no. He wanted more then anything to keep himself from agreeing. If he said yes, it would devalue all he had been standing for. Excitement wasn’t really the word but words were failing him. Words couldn’t summarise the meaning behind the adrenaline rush. Come to think of it, nothing explained it. But, in that moment, his silence said enough. Felix outstretched his hand and lay it lightly on Locus’ chest. His palm pressed over Locus’ heart, he leant forward,  
“Just as I thought...” Felix whispered against Locus’ ear. The thudding of Locus’ heart beneath the fabric was music to Felix. In that racing rhythm Felix found a reason to smile, “you’re just like I am.”  
“Felix, I-“ Locus felt like he should have said no. Instead, he let his emotions take him, “I don’t know what happened.”  
“I’ll tell you Locus... because I know...” Felix moved back slightly, so their noses were nearly brushing, _“you just felt the ground bend beneath your feet. And you liked it.”_   
  
In that moment when Felix slowly kissed him, he became the vivid flowers that bloomed in the pavement cracks on the street corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Updates will continue, but slowly, as I have just started university. I'd like to thank Ross once again for what has become endless talk. You've really helped me with my seemingly relentless round of writers block/lack of enthusiasm. Cheers my friend, you really help.


	19. The Permanency of Common Phrases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Common phrases cause pain.

**_S I R I S_ **

 

Siris didn’t ask about Felix’s bullet wound. At least he didn’t ask why there was blood smudged up Locus’ arm and around his waist. Hand prints wound their way up and around Locus’ sides. Siris had simply dismissed it as marks from Felix being supported in his walking. But they didn’t _quite_ match up. Of course his instant reaction upon seeing Felix was mild panic. Ryann really had been there. Peculiar. But then he felt a wave of responsibility. Was that shot traced back to him too? Was there anything he wasn’t responsible for? All he knew was that he was driving the few hours back to the city with Felix bleeding on the back seats. Again.   
  
“So...?” Siris asked, flashing a glance to the review mirror, “the job?”   
“Done.” Felix snapped with a hiss of pain, “objective taken out.”   
“You could be a bit politer...?”   
“Okay then. We politely took her out?”   
Siris’ nails dug into the steering wheel. He wondered exactly what it would take for Felix to take things seriously. Obviously more then a bullet wound.   
“The two of your don’t have your ear pieces in. Again.” Siris put a harsh note on the words. It wasn’t chased up when he got no answer. But he did note the look they exchanged when he mentioned it.   
  
There was something different about them. Anyone who had known them for a while could tell. He’d missed something on that mission. Something had happened. It had changed them. It was clear as day in Locus’ grey eyes. He looked as if the world was beginning to make sense. Yet he was covered in spatters of blood.   
“Mhm I have an idea.” Locus had mumbled, letting go of Felix’s arm and shuffling forward slightly. He undid his shirt and took it off, beneath he always wore a singlet. Taking the fabric between his fingers, he tore roughly until the seams split.   
“That’s a hell of a party trick.” Felix observed as Locus tore off the fabric from the shirt. “Could you do that but with, the whole shirt. Just get rid of it.”   
Locus narrowed his eyes at Felix and brushed past the comment to tie the fabric around the wound.   
“It’ll slow the bleeding.” Locus muttered to himself as he fumbled with the knot. There was a shake to his hands, a shake which wasn’t from the car. Slowly Felix rested his free hand over Locus’ until he was steady enough to tie it properly.   
“Thanks...” a small wave of embarrassment snuck through him as he his hands became steady enough to tie it together. Locus shouldn’t have needed that comfort. But he was accepting of it.   
  
At some point between when the bickering stopped and when it didn’t pick back up was when Siris decided to pull over. Firstly to take a break but secondly to check they hadn’t killed each other yet. Instead what he found was almost unbelievable. And he was thankful for it. Felix had fallen asleep against Locus’ side. His hand still clasped around his arm which was slowly trickling with blood. Felix’s head rest on Locus’ collarbone and he was half draped across his chest. The both of them blissfully unaware and utterly exhausted. So in the silence Siris turned the radio on, making sure it was low in volume and kept on heading forwards. 

I'm way too proud, hoping to offend  
You're nothing now— 

Felix’s wince from the back made Siris turn the channel down and glance at the review mirror. He didn’t awaken. 

_Your friends just held you off the ground,  
Second best. _

_  
_ Every twenty minutes or so he would check the review mirror. It had seemed no one was currently or had been following them. If there was anyone to follow them to begin with. Ryann would be one of few people that far out of town.

_Heart too loud, head ready to end it,  
Upside down, hanging on the edge. _

Siris spent the rest of the trip debating his choices. Every route he took brought him to the same conclusion. His family wasn’t safe. Staying wasn’t an option.

 _Just reaching for the gun,  
_ _I never meant it, I never meant it._

By the time that they’d reached the city Siris was utter and undeniably exhausted. Maybe it was Felix and Locus’ light breathing that reminded him how dire in need he was of sleep. The stitching in his stomach had been making it difficult to get any shut eye. Then there was the memories of Camperdown. If he wasn’t being haunted then his stitches were being pulled. Either way lead him to the same conclusion; he’d messed up.   
  
“Hey, psst...” Felix wasn’t usually a heavier sleeper. Hell, Felix was never much of a sleeper to begin with. Neither was Locus. The both of them had been struggling since the war. Being haunted both while awake and asleep. The both of them had their physical scars but they also had their mental ones. Locus was very weary of touch. Felix was naturally defensive. The both of them wore their wounds in plain sight. Well. Most.   
“Locus...? _Ortez_.” Siris hissed, causing Locus to awaken with a start and in turn, wake up Felix.   
“Fuck you!” Felix exclaimed before he’d even sat up properly as he rubbed his weary eyes.   
“Felix is that how you always wake up?” Siris asked, opening the door wider.   
“Mhmmmhmmm....” he trailed off, shaking himself from his slumber. “That’s why I get laid so often.”     
  
The walk through the train system to get to Ranier’s office was eerie. Something about the pattering sound of blood hitting the stones of the track that begin to echo around Siris’ head. Blood loss was starting  to get to Felix. It could be told by the way he was swaying into Locus’ arms and drawling out the ends of his sentences.   
“I really wanna see one...” Felix hissed, frowning at the tracks.   
“See what?”   
“A ghost train! Or just like one of them really old trains... you fucking moron. What else would I be talking about??” Felix sniffed, wincing at his arm before stopping his murmuring.   
“Literally. Anything else.” Siris chimed in from the front, his torch their only reliable source of light.  His wandering thoughts reminded him to walk normally. Ranier couldn’t know about the wounds on his stomach. Ranier couldn’t know about Camperdown.   
  
“Ranier.” Felix announced, smugly. Tone still hinting at pain as they eventually walked into his office. Ranier was standing behind the table, bent over it as he observed it. Face washed over with concentration as he absent mindedly tapped his cane on the floor over and over. Only to stop once he caught their eyes.   
“Ah gentlemen.” Ranier stood straight to the three of them. Once his eyes found Felix’s wound, he became much more concerned, “Felix what happened?”   
His voice was nothing more than a breath.   
“It’s like a graze. But it was done by a fuck off fast bullet.” Felix winced before turning to Siris, “there’s gotta be a term for that?”   
Siris blinked in defeat. “Felix was shot.”   
“Ding ding, round one.”   
  
Ranier narrowed his eyes at the three of them before he waved them to follow in his lead. He seemed to know the tunnels like the back of his hand.   
“You know this system well...” Siris hinted at requesting from context. Ranier hummed, tapping his cane onto the train track. He turned the face them for a second, spinning on his heel before continuing onwards.   
“I have an embezzler fixated on old and forgotten real estate. Failed projects. Property that falls off the market. Renovations that never take place. A keen eye for the neglected…” Ranier trailed off, “he decided to work with me after all…”   
Locus and Siris exchanged a glance but didn’t ask. Ranier, neglected? Two terms that would be considered antonyms.

Eventually they rounded a corner into a room which had to have the most light of any areas. Spotlights were set up around the walls and every piece of furniture looked spotless. Furniture was the wrong word, more so equipment. Stethoscopes, blood pressure testers, a range of scissors and blades, stitching thread, needles, anything of the sort. In the corner was a large desk where a man sat hunched over. He swiveled in his chair as he heard the door screeched open.  
“Ah Ranier!” The man exclaimed as he leant back in his chair, “I thought I could hear that cane against the tracks. Been a while since you paid me a visit.”   
“Locus, Felix, Siris… meet Ton, my medic.” Ranier gestured his hand to the man. Pale in tone, curly short brown hair and glasses perched on his nose. His expression had something of intrigue about him.   
“Dr Anton Ivanov, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Boldness stuck to his accent, his r’s rolling somewhat. Harsh and biting. As threatening as the rust that hung in Ranier’s words.   
“Ton here fixed my men when they’re broken.”   
“Marcus here refuses to use my proper title. I studied hard for it, yet he disregards it.”   
“A qualification that got you a job in an abandoned train system. _Congratulations_ .” Ranier teased him.   
“Without me, who is going to fix this one.” Ivanov nodded his head towards Felix, “a flesh wound, bullet, is it not?”   
“Mhm it is.” Felix grunted as he took a seat besides Ivanov. No time was wasted in preparing to sew the wound up.   
“Most days Lamija is here too. She another of my fences however. If she was a fully trained medic then I could get rid of Ton and his repulsive attitude.”   
Ivanov stared over the frames of his glasses as he cleaned the wound, hands moving so quickly that it was clear he was _beyond_ skilled in the practice.   
“Take this…” he slid over a little glass cup, “for the pain.”   
Felix didn’t hesitate to down it before spluttering and exclaiming,   
“It’s fucking vodka, oh my god.” Ranier shook his head at Ivanov with a smile creeping onto his expression. Felix unscrewed his face after a bit and proceeded to sit through the pain.

The following hour was laced with conversation about Ryann and the complex. Ranier was very interested in all of it. He mentioned the airbase possibly being a future place to stay. Especially considering it could be long term. Felix said minimal, only wincing from time to time and requesting more vodka which he wasn’t granted. Ivanov moved onto cleaning the blood from Locus’ face before Locus could even consider it.  
“Oh this is new...” of all people Ranier was the first one to notice. He approached the table slowly. As if a single movement could scare him away. Felix watched with narrow eyes as Ranier restrained himself from touching the scar on Locus’ face which had been revealed as Ivanov had washed the blood away. Ranier didn’t stop himself for staring at it with interest though, “now how long had this been here for...?”   
“Uhm—“ Locus faltered, somewhat flustered. He hated the scar with every molecule of his being.   
“It’s gorgeous isn’t it..?” Felix piped up, moving over to them. With a quick breath, he trailed his finger down the markings and then eventually too hold his jaw. He restrained the smirk he wanted to pull when he felt Locus lean slightly into his hand.   
“I’ve had it for years.” Locus eventually told Ranier who was watching the two of them closely. Siris didn’t know the origin of that scar. Locus didn’t talk about it. And more then that, he didn’t show it. He’d conceal it like clockwork. Make sure it wasn’t visible to anyone.   
“Then why cover it up?” Ranier tilted his head, “why hide?”   
“I get enough attention as it is.” Locus answered, half truthfully.   
“You wouldn’t believe it.” Siris chimed in, “being his size and stature.”   
“You do carry the burden of being awfully handsome Locus.” Ranier said smoothly, looking from him to Felix and then back to him, “a mere observation, _Felix._ The daggers are _not_ necessary, I assure you.”   


Ranier exchanged a look with Ivanov who went back to cleaning Locus’ neck of crimson. After a few moments silence he hummed,  
“And what is this here...?” Locus’ head had been angled so that the stretched skin on his throat could be exposed.The skin was bruising in a few spots down his skin.   
“Can’t remember.” Locus barely battered an eyelid. Tone so completely honest that Siris didn’t believe it. The look in Ranier’s eyes showed he was in deep thought. Eventually he blinked form his state and met Locus’ eyes. Approaching slowly, he asked an unexpected question.   
“You didn’t happen to notice anything different with the car?”   
“Uh, no. Why?”   
“Miller took it briefly. Said something to do with Felix. Don’t know why.” Ranier asked, looking momentarily confused before his usual expression of calmness washed back over him. “Never mind then. Just glad it works.”  
“Alright. We are done here. Ranier I expect my cheque tomorrow morning.” The teasing in Ivanov’s tone was barely audible. “Or you give me half the cut from Lamija’s fence run and I teach her how to do what I just did. Locus, Felix, Siris. Take care, until next time.”   
“Neither will be the case Ton.” Ranier shook his head, catching the cane as Ton lightly threw it hs direction. Ranier turned to the three of them, “I’ll see you boys soon. I have other business to attend to.”

  
Although they got somewhat lost on the way out of the complex, it didn’t take too long. It was Felix’s endless complaining that really gave them the motivation to find the exit. Once they were in the car, Locus suggested he take Felix into the apartment himself to be sure that he was safe and not passed out from pain or blood loss. The stitching was immaculate, it was Felix’s self care that was questionable. And so their drive was mostly silent. As they pulled up by the Enteka blocks, Siris wound the window down to say a goodbye.   
“Ranier asked if I noticed anything strange about the car? Apparently you and Miller were involved.” Locus inquired to Felix as he helped him from the car,   
“Not in the slightest, I—“ Felix screwed up his face in confusion,   
“Oh you mean the number plate.” Siris spoke up.   
“What?” Locus and Felix asked in unison, looking back at him.   
“The number plate is now 8DIX247. I thought that was your doing Felix. I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of the reaction.”   
“Wh...?”   
“Spell it out, but slowly.”   
Felix did. And he wasn’t happy about it.   
“I’m taking away his bounty-hunter-with-benefits benefits. What a fucking asshole.”   
Siris raised an eyebrow and laughed a dismissive laugh. Felix and Miller were hell in each other’s company and Siris could only pray for Locus’ sanity. Silence washed over them after that. It lingered in the air like heatwaves; it felt suffocating.   
  
“Guess this is goodbye for now.” Siris muttered finally as he cast it his eyes to be looking anywhere else.   
“Don’t say goodbye man. Goodbyes make it more... permanent. We’ll see each other around.” Felix’s hand was out in gesture of, well, Siris wasn’t even sure. It wasn’t the bitterness he was expecting, although his tone hinted at it. If anything the bitterness bought him comfort because at the end of the day that trait was undeniably Felix. Siris returned the handshake.   
“Thank you.” Locus was undeniably himself as well; a man of few words. Maybe they hadn’t changed as much as Siris had thought. Anxiety settled in his stomach like a brick. It was heavier then he was expecting. But the turn of the key and rev of the engine did nothing but keep his heart thumping sporadically. Shutting the door, he wound down the window.   
“Good luck you two. Like is said. You won’t need it. You fight just as well without me.”   
He repeated what he’d told them all those months ago in the quarry. Only this time, once the pedal was to the floor, there was no putting the car in reverse.

Locus and Felix watched Siris' taillights fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Second Best- Storm the Sky  
> Thank you for the patience. Again. It's been a while...


	20. The Obscure, Abnormal Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus and Felix deal with new circumstance and the loss of a partner.

**_L O C U S_ **

Standing by the very end of the bed, Locus had his brow furrowed. Felix was lying on the sheets as if his arm couldn’t damage them. Carefree was one word, a nightmare was another. Locus had taken majority of his protective apparel off and had stood somewhat dumb founded. Lost and confused.    
“Aren’t we going to talk about it...” Felix trailed off,   
“About what?” Locus asked as Felix crept closer to him, moving his hands to around his neck to drag Locus down towards him.    
“This...” within a moment Felix was kissing him. Again. Only this time without the adrenaline of an unplanned kill.    
“T-this isn’t exactly talking about it...” Locus pointed out, not being able to move back from Felix and so resorted to moving himself onto the sheets. He knelt on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress, fingers lingering on Felix’s jaw.    
“You’re, a... fucking... stickler for accuracy.” Felix murmured between them. Words coming out hotly against Locus’ lower lip.    
“Well, I—“   
“The o-one fucking time you decide to talk. Is the m... most inconvenient of times.” Felix bit at his lower lip. Locus let out an unintentional whine. It was only when Felix put too much pressure on his arm that he pulled away. Although he still had Locus’ lower lip between his teeth as he did so. The sudden movement left red imprints on Locus as Felix had pulled back suddenly with a yelp. Locus couldn’t do much more then frown. Blood was staining Felix’s sheets already.    
“You need to treat your arm.” Locus muttered, scanning the wound with narrowed eyes.    
“Mmm pain isn’t exactly a turn off.” Felix smirked, casting his gaze aside to the flesh wound.    
“I believe infection would be.” Locus remarked, although monotone.    
“Fine.” Felix huffed, “I’ll put my injury first. Only because I know if I don’t, you’ll try and put me under house arrest for a second time."   
So Felix spent the next three hours of the middle of the night lying down on his sheets with his arm draped over a container. In it blood had begun to pool and ripple as other drops added to it. That part had been Felix's fault. Unnecessary movement leading to a split in stitching. If Locus had to be grateful for one trait of Felix’s it would have to be his lack of pain recognition. No jolts or flinches were to be seen as Locus patiently redressed the wound. Ton had done a good job, if only Felix hadn't ruined it.   
“What... what happens now..?” Locus barely managed to whisper out into the silence.    
“Life returns to normal. Just a partner down...” Felix knew damn well that Locus hadn’t meant in regards to Siris. More so the attack on his face.  But he didn’t say anything else, he was preoccupied, “this whole lack of understanding? It will tear us apart.”    
  
Locus had to take an extra few seconds to realise that Felix’s words had been serious. A real answer was beyond rare.    
“Tear us part...?”   
He repeated slowly, pressing his lips together.    
“You’ve seen what’s happened to Siris. Who's the say the same shit won’t happen to us, Locs.   
  
Needless to say, life didn’t return to normal. Locus had vivid consideration of a number of things. There was fingers in his hair. Twisting and pulling and tugging. They would slowly trail through the threads before grabbing at them. Locus’ ponytail was being used as a source of stimulant. By god was it working.    
  
There was open mouthed hisses and curses being whispered into a mess of lips meeting skin. Necks and shoulders and hell, other lips. Words of the most intense meanings being said in between belated breaths.    
  
Felix had Locus’ head absolutely everywhere at once. Since the airbase. Unfortunate.    
  
Although to hell with feelings and discussions, Felix wanted back out into the field. And for the first time, Locus found himself agreeing. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of the contracts that was intriguing him though. More so the reminder that once he had taken a life; he’d apparently taken Felix’s attention. Undivided. If his choice had been to pure that tigger subjectively, then it could only be assumed that Felix’s response was the same. Felix’s behaviour following the airbase was beyond unpredictable. It was as if he weren’t really considering it at all and merely doing things the moment they came to mind.    
  
It was a day of rolling grey waves and sheer rain angled in the wind to look like the finest needles. The chimneys puffed smoke into the clouds, the lights in the street were alight in neon. Ranier had called, coincidentally once Locus had appeared at Felix’s door mere ten minutes before hand.    
“Felix. My favourite injured-employee. Come for check up. Please. I await the day I can fire Ton for bad handiwork...” there was teasing in his tone.    
“May I bring my less injured partner?” Felix asked, turning to face Locus.    
“Oh he’s there? Mind if I have a word?”    
“Have two.” Felix joked as he handed the phone over.    
There was almost immediate concentration on the words coming from the phone once it was in Locus' hands. Interesting how much he'd come to recognise Ranier as authority.     
"Siris notified me of his departure. I assume of the two of you; you would be more level headed in your reactions to this?"   
Locus turned to look at Felix, wondering how Felix was really feeling behind that facade of his. Or if he really ever felt anything at all. Anger seemed to be his main means of expression.    
He did think of Felix's outrage at the news and said a hesitant,   
"Yes, Sir."    
"Well now it's only the two of you, things will change. Would Felix be willing to do that anytime soon?"   
Locus watched as Felix adjusted his dark jumper around his arms. On the material in bright orange letters were the words 'I'm not always angry or sarcastic. Sometimes I'm asleep'.   
"I believe so." Locus angled his head slightly. "Might I add that his wound was bleeding not too long after it was treated. Yet, however, I believe Ivanov wasn't at fault for it."   
A light chuckle could be heard from the other end of the phone.    
"Felix never seems to surprise me. He's twitchy that one, can never seem to sit still nor let things be."   
Locus kept his eyes on Felix who had begun to merely observe the nails on his fingers. Without intending to, Locus noticed something strange about the skin around Felix's fingers. Skin scabby and raw surrounded the nails. Beads of blood leaked from the fleshy skin. It almost looked like flaying.    
"You're not wrong about him."   
Then with the smuggest of tones, Ranier muttered a,   
"Never am."    
Before he hung up the phone.    
  
It didn't take much convincing to get Felix to head towards Ranier's. Over the past few weeks Felix had become somewhat restless. Locus guessed it was because he wanted to prove he could be just as good even if he was down a partner. So through the cold and fogging streets within the dead of the night, Felix lead Locus without hesitation nor a stumble. His chatter was endless. Rambling and chaotic. Collision of syllables in the needle-like rain.

“What do you think happened between Ranier and Ryann?!"

Oh this, this was going to be a conversion and a half. And it was. Felix's thoughts were everywhere.

“So they fucked, right?” Locus frowned at Felix and opened his mouth to suggest otherwise but Felix spoke first, “I know, I know, he said that he didn't. But. Come on. You saw her, imagine her in her prime. Less in hiding and starving. She would be a hell of a sight… and a hell of a fuck… Wouldn’t you agree?”

Locus’ frown only grew. 

“Well… not exactly.”

“Why's that?”

locus mumbled a hesitant,

“She's not my type.”

Felix let out a little laugh before deciding to continue to rant  

“i just don't know why a hateful relationship would lead to hiding out in the ruins of an airbase…?” Felix started to talk to himself, “like if I were to hate you, more than I already do, I'd just hate-fuck you into next week but I wouldn't go into hiding in a fucking remote compound. I dunno, seems strange, huh?”

“There's stranger things.” Locus shrugged.

“Yeah, like you…” he cocked his head slightly, “and me… like  _ us _ .”   
  


_Us_. Why did Locus’ stomach flip at that? He didn't find an answer. Mainly because he hadn't searched for that answer. Some things were better left undisturbed. So Locus was deep in thought as he and Felix made their way to the station. Locus had an umbrella with him, it was raining after all, but Felix had other ideas. While mindlessly blabbing he found focus in kicking at puddles and balancing on slippery benches. Despite all that had been happening to them, he still went on as if things were perfectly normal. But Locus could still feel the kickback of the gun. The pull at the trigger. He shivered as they reached the station entrance but it wasn't because of the cold.

 

As usual, Felix was back to walking on the tracks and discussing the importance of trains. Then debating the existence of ghost trains. The whole system was left in such a hurry that things were as they had been left. Locus took it in much more than he had been before     
  
"Locs?"    
"Yes--" he didn't even have second before Felix was on him. Hands threading around his waist as he pressed him against the walls of the station. Lips providing gentle touch to Locus' throat as the teeth nipped at the skin. A low groan left the depths of his throat as Felix's hands began to map his skin.   
"I-” god help Locus’ inevitable loss of words, “I don't think.. that this--”

“No you think too much, that's your problem.” Felix hissed as he lightly dug his nails into the skin of Locus’ waist, “look around Locs. We're in an abandoned train system. The place is empty. Crumbling. Broken. Post apocalyptic. And I'm quite excited by it. All of it..”

Felix trailed his hands down, slowly, reaching Locus’ hip bone and edging inwards until his thumbs massaged small circles just above Locus’ thighs as his nails grasped desperately at the flesh. Locus returned the urgency, his hands trailing down the dip in Felix's back. 

“God I would just do…” Felix's breath hitched, “ _ unspeakable _ ... things to you.” 

Locus hated how wild his imagination went almost instantly. But it didn't last long as Felix pulled himself a way and casually said,

“Come on Locs, we'll be late.”

Leaving Locus standing against the wall with a heaving chest and irritated beyond belief. Felix really was  _ insufferable _ . Yet, he found himself letting Felix take the lead. 

  
They had barely been in his office for a second before Ranier gave them the most direct comment.    
“Mm the two of you have figured it out huh?” He was writing in a small book. It was black and hardcover and it had most of his attention. So much so that his eyes had only briefly looked up.    
“I’m— I’m sorry?” Felix asked for clarification.    
“Don’t be sorry. Although I now owe Ton a drink.” He tssk’ed dismissively and made a point of not giving Felix said clarification. Ranier looked much too smug. “I know my employees. I know the two of you. Not entirely however, since, I don't know how you are since Siris has left…”

Felix winced slightly too sarcastically. 

“Guess he told you, huh.” He sounded spiteful. Whether he intended to or not. 

“He did. He reached out to me a few days ago and told me that he would no longer be able to work for me. Notably, he said that you two fought just as well without him. Which may be true, however, I do believe he's the majority of your impulse control. And simultaneously a couple's counselor but nevermind that. How are you two holding up?”

Felix and locus exchanged a look of no real identifiable emotion. It was a look that lingered maybe a second too long. 

“We are both fine.” Felix said, slowly taking his eyes off Locus and back to Ranier, “despite feeling like I've been stabbed in the back, ya know, partners don't tend to abandon each other.”

Ranier was watching him closely and monitoring how he spoke. Not much seemed to have change. 

“I don't believe Siris is working other contracts. I think he's leaving for good. So, he's no competition.” Locus clarification wasn't necessary. It just made their fake naiveness that much more compelling.     
"I hope not… now, speaking of. I have a contract since Lamija has returned.” Ranier shuffled some papers before he turned to meet their eyes, "it's obscure. Abnormal. Are you interested?"    
Felix grinned.    
"I think you know our type."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN SO LONG! IM SO SORRY!   
> Between uni and my work I've been commissioned to do some murals in my city so a lot of my spare time is being dedicated to that. I promise I haven't forgotten about this!


	21. Eyes Worth A Thousand Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lamija opens Felix and Locus' eyes a little more to the criminal world. She seems to almost immediately regret it.

**_F E L I X_ **

 

The only thing that Ivanov had to say to Felix’s arm was an exasperated, ' _ё-моё_ '. When Felix asked what that meant, Ranier simply shook his head. But there was a smirk on his face.    
“I’d love to be bilingual.”   
God knows where Felix was going with that, wherever that was was shut down by Ranier,   
“You are. You speak English. As well as utter bullshit.” Now Ivanov was the one smirking. But his efforts were hurried by Felix’s insistent questioning,   
“Married man I see… I imagine there are easier ways to have your life ruined? Although I pity the woman who has the other ring, as far as I’m aware, you spend your life as a tunnel dweller. Ohhh wait is it L-whoever-we-are-meeting-today?”   
“Lamija.” Ranier corrected him. “And no. Our dear Lamija wouldn’t have the patience for Ivanov and his permanent frustration.   
“There’s a lot of things to be complained about.”   
“Oh you make me painfully aware.” Ranier shook his head.   
“I do my best.” He whispered, finishing with the patch work. “As does Lamija, good luck in finding her.”

Despite a few instances of getting lost within the tunnels, they had finally managed to find where Lamija was. Her room was her own. Apparently she was some of the crew that moved  _ with _ Ranier. She didn’t exist according to the outside world. So not only were Locus and Felix looking through a complex they weren’t familiar with, they were also looking for someone they’d never met. Door after door was checked. On occasion there would be people dwelling behind those doors. God knows what they were doing, maybe they would have found out if Felix had not obliterated any chance of normal conversation as soon as he noticed the other person,   
“Sorry this isn’t the whorehouse we are looking for.”   
“Our mistake! Wrong number!”   
“Does anyone actually fucking know how much a polar bear weighs?!”   
“Shit, guess I left the body in the next room over.”   
“Ranier didn’t drop his dignity in here, did he? He’s looking for it.” That one took Locus by so much surprise that he pulled Felix back.   
“Felix. Stop.”   
“Fine.” He’d scoffed, “you’re no fucking fun.”

However, if Locus knew what he would be doing instead he may not have been so quick to stop him. A few doors that lead to nothing, a few corridors that didn’t even _have_ doors, until one room which was nearly pitch black. Felix had hummed, with narrowed eyes and then screwed his nose up,  
“Locs, look at this!” He hissed, pointing into the darkness of the room. Locus couldn’t see anything past his peering. “ _What_ _is that?!”_ _  
_Locus squinted and still could see nothing.  
“Look!” Felix repeated, more urgent this time. He took a few hesitant steps into the room, beckoning Locus to follow him. Which he did. But they were only a few steps in when Felix turned around and pinned Locus against the closing door.  
“It’s a gullible idiot, is what it is.” Felix hummed as he roughly kissed at Locus’ jaw line.   
“Felix we don’t have _time_ for this.” Locus huffed, pathetically light headed already.  
“Don’t have time? Locs, time is a man-made concept.” Felix took his wrists and put Locus’ hands on his waist. Moving them down slowly, past the small of his back, “now how is that…?”  
Locus stifled an honest response through gritted teeth,  
“...much too pleasant…” he barely lasted a few moments before he kicked into autopilot mode. Kneading at Felix’s skin, massaging it almost.  
“A strange compliment…” he leant in and breathed hotly against Locus’ lips, “but I’ll take it…”  
Locus knew, he _knew_ , that Felix was going to cut this short. As much as he loved ignoring the rules and having __adamant expression of fondness for Locus’ undivided attention, he also liked his job. Maybe he shouldn’t have but he decided to take these few moments to find his bearing. So with Felix leaving bites along his jaw, he took a breath and let himself melt into the touch. He let himself embrace the situation. He found his hands picking up a rhythm and mapping out Felix’s frame.   
“Locus?” Felix whispered softly,  
“Mhmmm?”  
“We don’t have time for this.” Locus had known it was coming. But the phrasing irritated him more then he was expecting. So his hands reflected in surprise and grabbed roughly enough for Felix to gasp lightly and bite his lower lip. He was gone before Locus could even consider his response.

So the search for the room continued. It was only then that Locus realised Felix had lead them in a loop. He wondered if that was at all to do with Felix’s luring of Locus. Had he seen that room and chosen it? Possibly. Not that Locus minded that, he was still a little flustered by it. Heart beating a little too fast. But it was quickly forgotten by the more obvious sign they had missed. The graffiti that Ranier had told them to look out for. A diamond shape made of four smaller diamonds. It was uneven and messy, the maroon spray paint had run down the walls and dried messily. Thinner lines of black outlined some of it and contrasted boldly against the grey of the walls.   
“My instinct says… it  _ may _ be there.” Felix cocked his head.    
His instincts were right, although unsurprisingly. They found themselves by a door marked with “M.L.” and Felix knocked without much care.    
“Lamija?” Felix asked after maybe half a second of nothing, jumping the gun somewhat, “Ranier sent us. The door creaked open to reveal a room that looked almost prison-like. Felix’s eye caught the bedding that looked only to be animal pelt.

“ _ Večer _ , evening, _ you’re late. _ ” Lamija was  _ nothing  _ like Locus nor Felix had been expecting. Much like Ivanov, her tone was sharp. Only her accent was entirely different to his Russian one. She spoke somewhat nasally yet she heightened the vowels. Dressed in entirely black clothing that resembled armour of  _ sorts _ but was also fitting enough to let her move without much weight to her stride. “Sit.”   
With the instruction came a gesture as she held her hand out to the table in the corner of the room. A table with only two seats.   
“Uhh we seem to have one too many people.” Felix turned to her, “I can sit on Locus?”   
“No, sit.” She requested again, watching carefully as they took their seats. Felix had paid a lot of attention upon his first close-up glance. Her eyes were a blue in shade that seemed to sink into indigo. The dark tan to her skin littered with lightened scarring yet little fresh wounds. Her dark hair tied into a low dark bun. 

So Felix took a seat in one of the two splintering chairs. They smelt of wet rot, as most of the train station did. The table itself was made of the same wood, falling apart in certain places, only it was less damaged then the chairs. On it sat three cream candles, all of different heights, sitting on a plate that was overflowing with melted wax. Soft, pathetic flames flickered in each of them and cast the orange shade across the rooms.  
“I’m Marcia Lamija, Ranier’s  _ ograda _ , his  _ fence _ .” She got straight to business, standing between the two of them. It was almost if she was cornering them in the room.    
“Sorry but, Ranier has more the one fence. Hell, he  _ was  _ one.”   
“It is true he has more than one fence. However I’m stationed with his people. Where he moves, I move. His other fences are all outposted elsewhere and handle his more remote dealings.” She scowled at Felix as if to silence him, “those other fences go through me. They are under my watch. I connect Ranier to them and them to Ranier.”   
“So… you’re a bridge between the fences…? Fucking hell, we are going to need an architect for this…”

Lamija lifted her long sleeve to hold the fabric by her elbow. On her forearm was what looked like scarring, a burn of sorts, in the shape of the graffiti Ranier had directed them two.   
“Fences are ample. But, yet, they are rare. We are more than  _ Moving Men _ . Moving Men have no training. No skill. Only luck. Us, the fences, we have a fellowship of our own. The best of us have this mark. Keep in mind, Bounty Hunters, that there is much more to this world than you know...”  
“Ooookay…” Felix drawled out, taking any and all seriousness that she had and acted as if it were nothing, “sounds like a history class I would have skipped, not a contract.”   
Felix saw her eyes flare,   
“I must make you aware of some of these factors before I throw you into this world...but as you wish. As you can imagine, a man like Lozano had big suppliers. I have been out with them for the past three months hiding.”   
“You just… hang out in shipping containers often? A weird hobby, I’d recommend maybe knitting instead. Then try the weird shit…”    
“Quiet, Bounty Hunter.” She snapped, Felix shuffled in his seat but remained undeniably smug, “there was plans to move his remaining stock, supplies and ammo and firearms, back to their place of origin.”   
“Sounds like a waste of time for some sailors.”   
“Not if we stop that boat.”   
Both Locus and Felix narrowed their eyes.   
“You mean…?”   
“We board that ship. We find what we need. We find a way to get it back here…. at all costs.”   
“Why at all costs?” Locus asked slowly, still trying to place all these elements together.    
“Camperdown Motel. Amnesia’s men against Myles’ men. Not directly involving us here, but it poses a threat. Ranier prefer we are armed and ready, in the case that this tension causes things to snap. We don’t have much longer in this station either. Our property locator has been quiet for a few months…” She explained in frustrated thought. Her rhythmic tapping of nails against the wood was enough to be distracting. Until she stopped with no warning and looked the two of them in the eyes.   
“Would you be willing to pick this one up?”

“Undercover?” Felix repeated before beaming with a, “we can certainly go undercover, can’t we Locs?… you, me, 10pm tonight, be there.”    
“Foolish play on words, makes for little comedy.” Lamija huffed looking to Locus who looked as if his brain had just short circuited.    
“Yes.” Locus said without thinking. Both Felix and Lamija turning to look at him. “Yes we will take the contract.”   
“Making choices for the both of us?” Felix nearly purred. “ _ Bold… _ ”   
Locus swallowed thickly, maybe that  _ had  _ been a bit bold.  
“Acceptable.” Lamija muttered, moving to pick up a folder from a stool, “this has all of the information we have… tell me once you’ve gone over it. We need to move within the week.”   
“We?” Felix repeated.   
“I am to accompany you. The three of us, with your friend Zachary Miller on recon. I know their inner workings.”   
“Are you s--”   
“If you are about to ask me if I am  _ sure _ about attending this contract, Felix, might I remind you that I don’t have to prove my credentials to  _ you _ .” The harsh spite in her voice said all that needed to be said. She handed the folder in Locus’ direction. Felix took it.   
“Guess we will be in touch, Marcia.” Felix sneered before turning to leave.   
“He is nepodnošljiv.” She nodded after him, scowl on her face,    
“What does that mean…?” Locus asked, although he had a feeling he knew the answer. Lamija looked Locus in the eyes, they didn’t soften for a second. If a picture was worth a thousand words then her eyes were worth a thousand pictures.    
“Nepodnošljiv…  _ insufferable… _ ”

Felix wondered exactly how Locus had reacted to that comment. He found his answer much later that night while he sat on his window sill watching the business of the world. Music thumping through the apartment, shaking the water droplets from the outside of the window. Tracing a finger through the frost, he drew what he could remember of Ranier’s tattoos; wheels and cogs all intertwining. When, through that frost, Felix saw Locus approaching the Enteka blocks. 

Felix turned to the clock and smirked. _10pm_.   


**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to rewatch RvB. I also decided that Felix, Locus and Siris need more stories about their time before Chorus. Although I'm working hard on Stolen Stars and other stories at the moment, I'm hoping to update regularly. I love these three and would love to explore their stories further.


End file.
